In a quiet corner of a nursing home,
Resides a soul yearning to roam,
A woman with memories slipping away,
Dementia's haze turning her world gray.
Her eyes, once bright, now clouded and lost,
The present fading, past dreams embossed,
Within her fragile heart, a longing stirs,
To go back to a time when everything was hers.
She speaks of a mother, tender and dear,
Whose comforting presence she holds near,
In the depths of her mind, their love endures,
A bond untouched by time's relentless cures.
With each passing day, her plea remains,
To leave the walls, break free from chains,
She longs for home, where her heart resides,
To be cradled once more by her mother's side.
The staff, compassionate, gently try to explain,
Her mother's presence in a realm unrestrained,
But her eyes, filled with sorrow, search the room,
Seeking a comfort only found in a childhood's bloom.
Oh, the ache of her desire, so bittersweet,
To return to a place where love was complete,
Though her memories wane, her longing persists,
For the warmth of a home that forever exists.
In this nursing home's embrace, she finds solace,
In tender hands, in moments of grace,
Though her mother's touch may remain afar,
Love surrounds her, like a guiding star.
And so, we honor her yearning to be free,
To wander in realms where only she can see,
For within her fragile heart's endless roam,
Lies the eternal love of a woman longing for home.
