I think that I shall never see
A disease as clever as PD.
A disease which is so perverse,
It forbids walking, except in reverse.
Angry? Any curse you utter
will be reduced to mumbled mutter.
Your sense of balance goes askew
It stinks, but sense of smell goes too.
A disease so thorough and drastic
Even the meds will leave you spastic.
It's no surprise if you've depression,
When your deterioration's called "progression"
I'd mention dystonia and other ills
But it's time to pause and take some pills.
Poems are made by fools like me,
but only God can cure PD.
No comments:
Post a Comment