Growing Old

He sits. Face stuck in a blank stare.
I wonder if he’s still there.
His mind has wandered off again,
Taking him back to a time when...
He could walk and dance and fish.
Bad genes and cancer made those things diminish.
His eyes all of a sudden flutter,
Out of his mouth words begin to sputter...
Reciting the same story he told an hour ago. 
The ending to which I already know.
Not the second or third, but fourth time...
My ears hear this rhyme.
It’s tell-tale heart maddening,
But it also causes my heart saddening.