Sunday, 10 July 2011


Obscurity is approaching, I can feel it in my veins
Muscles, they are wasting, my strength, I’ll not regain
Stretching out my arms is a feat no longer easy
Picking up light,empty cups? So hard I feel quite queasy
Going to the toilet is a marathon in the making
It’s also very scary, so, no chances I’ll be taking
Washing is a task that is no longer possible
About my inability I refrain from being irascible
These days my only remit is to find a new solution
To each little problem, though not all have resolution
Hours and hours are taken up with me scouring the net
Not always finding answers, though I won’t give up quite yet
If I didn’t have a purpose I think that I’d go mad
Sitting, daily, at my desk with my computer, oh, how sad
I set myself a goal which, when reached, it gives me pleasure
Though a cure for this disease would be something I would treasure
I think I’ll have to settle with being busy till my demise
As, hoping for a miracle is just, ’Pies up in the skies‘!

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