Your face isn't clear in my head,
I can't even remember things you said,
Yet I've spent countless hours in your arms,
Priceless anticipation, falling for your charms,
But those blue eyes are fading away,
Someday I won't remember, I dread that day,
I close my eyes, lay back to think of you and me,
It is your touch, your feel, not the things I see,
But I hold this photograph in my hand now,
The one you gave me after an ancient little row,
"To remember me, dear," you said with a small smile,
"Your mind is slipping away, it has been for a while."
I don't know this room, I just lie back on this bed,
Clutching the photo tight, trying to keep you in my head.
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