• Poetry

    Gear

    Here I am spun out on gear
    Will tomorrow be less full of fear?
    Don’t worry it’s all legal,
    Free too, for those that are frugal.
    Each prescription goes, if you think I’m a drain,
    To fight the good fight – the war on pain.
    Because the nerves won’t listen anymore,
    They have panic attacks no matter the score.
    Adhesions don’t know how to heal
    Leaving me unsure how to feel
    Unable to trust my own two feet on the floor
    Did you think I was joking when I said it’s a war?
    Like my body is on a spree
    Desperately seeking a space to be free
    Trying to find a moment of peace for my mind
    Overwhelmed by all my senses find
    The world is too bright and too loud
    I wonder if the disease is proud
    While it hides away, inactive, they say
    Leaving me little to do, except pray
    That I may live to see days into years
    Watch my children grow up, despite all my fears
    That the beast inside me will awaken
    Because I do not stand here unshaken
    Two battles won doesn’t constitute the war
    They don’t mean it’ll stay on the floor
    All I can do is to find ways to cope
    To try and remind myself to live in hope
    Here I am, all spun out on gear
    Trying not to live in perpetual fear

  • Poetry

    Remission

    Remission;
    Feels like a lie by omission,
    This is just an intermission,
    A fire awaiting its ignition,

    It seems like I am waiting,
    For a little cell to begin tainting,
    While I spend every minute hating,
    This disease that spends no time wasting,

    Corrupting my flesh, my blood, my mind
    My existence here is timed
    I’ve never felt so blind
    My future already signed

    When it comes I shall fight,
    I will not lose the light,
    I will struggle with all my might,
    For those who shine so bright,

    Remission;
    Feels like a lie of omission,
    This is just an intermission,
    A fire awaiting its ignition.