One day, I couldn’t find my keys
And went upstairs to look for these
But getting there, forgetting what
I’d come for, found that I could not.
And then, forgetting, to my shame,
What I was upstairs for, my name
And almost all worldly affairs,
I went to look for them downstairs.
On getting there, could not recall
Quite who had come, where, or what for.
To summon back my waning powers
I stood, woolgathering, for hours.
I missed, therefor, by being late,
With Doctor Alzheimer a date
At which he’d say I’d his disease.
I’d better go: where are my keys?
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