Memory-Loss Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The days blur, a watery haze,
My pills, a mountain, through the maze.
When to take them, what's the dose?
My mind, a tangled, wilting rose.

I tell myself, 'It's just a phase, '
But missed reminders, empty days,
Whisper truths I can't deny,
As memories begin to fly.

Each little pill, a crucial task,
Behind this foggy, failing mask.
The schedule fades, a shifting sand,
Beyond my failing, trembling hand.