He sits there,
A shadow,
Invisible.
No communication,
No movement ,
No independence.
Spoken about,
Spoken at,
Never to.
Things get done,
He cannot "do".
His life is lived,
But he has no life.
He has no voice,
He is trapped,
In crowded isolation.
Saturday, 22 January 2011
Friday, 7 January 2011
Pain
Four letters
That continually
Drive me insane..
PAIN.
That continually
Drive me insane..
PAIN.
Labels:
cfs,
chronic illness,
invisible,
M.E. fibromyalgia,
pain,
poem,
poetry
The point is?
Why
Do we think
That spending money
On useless items
Is good?
Why
Is buying
The latest gadget
More important
Than food?
Why
Do I see
After Christmas Season
Unwanted gifts
Discarded?
What
Is the point
Of indebtment
For a day
Of excess?
Do we think
That spending money
On useless items
Is good?
Why
Is buying
The latest gadget
More important
Than food?
Why
Do I see
After Christmas Season
Unwanted gifts
Discarded?
What
Is the point
Of indebtment
For a day
Of excess?
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