'Pieces Of Paper' Poem by Linda Winchell

She sits in her room ripping pages
out of a book of old memories.
Then places in some chronological order
of only her confused mind can now see.

While mumbling some kind of nonsensical babble
Of which only her mind understands.
In a chair, in a home filled with strangers
where her family had chosen to aband.

She once was a lady of great stature
had a high place in the worlds society.
But an illness that hit, where now she just sits
ripping pieces of what memories she sees.