Where did they go-the times we knew
Those voices...people passing through
Such memories, places, fading fast
When young, we thought they'd always last
...
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stanza 1: I don't think I've given any thought, ever, to how long my memories would last, except maybe very recently. Oh well.
stanza 2: I don't 'get it'. stanza 3: I had to read this twice and ponder some before I understood. My dad, in his last days, called my sister 'Mother' I believe. Maybe having dementia can be good? Not for all. ; ( bri