Small brain

I am small brain, in knot.
My words are my echoes
From inside of a trespass.

I know why son is in jail.
He is at large in big hall.
My words are new pickle.

You are who , from when?
I am a trespasser on jail,
Certain cerebrum in fold.

Pl. make up my meaning.
A dream spells my words
Of my time, fortnight ago.

Give me back my sodium.
I am mum at a minimum.
I seize the day,carpe diem.

(Making poetry of a dementia patient’s rantings)

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