Parkinson's Awareness Week- My final poem - Friendship re-posted

Parkinson's Awareness Week - My Final poem

Friendship Re-posted

Mr Parkinson and I
Are not at all on friendly terms
I give him the cold shoulder
And he gives me the shakes.
He even tries to make me freeze
But he’s got a lot to learn
Sell it to me how he likes
I will not apply the brakes!

He often tries to sell me things,
Things like Lewy bodies,
But I’m only interested
If one is better than my own.
And then there are free radicals
But they’re not such a bargain,
Because when I look in the mirror,
Looking back is some old crone!

Then there’s the treatment
That’s supposed to help me cope
It’s true it gets me going
And I can put on quite a spurt.
But when my blood pressure
Decides it’s going to drop,
I fall, and that cold shoulder
Can really start to hurt.

Still, there’s dopamine
Oh, and dopamine agonists,
They always make me laugh,
Such names seem somehow
To suggest, some dopey agony aunt!
But what wrong advice would it be
If they tended to suggest
I try to manage without them,
It’s impossible…I can’t!

But should Mr Parkinson reason
That this gives him the edge,
That he will be grand master,
And I, his lowly minion,
Why then how wrong he is
To feel comfortable with the idea,
That I will ever allow myself
To submit to his dominion!

So although I sense my aggressor
Stands ready to attack,
In the same way that Dionysius
Threatened envious Damocles,
And all of this because I reject
Parkinson’s unwelcome advances,
And absolutely refuse to be defined
By his odious and truculent disease!

So it’s decided, there is to be
No humiliating surrender,
But still I must do whatever I can,
To contribute to our mutual felicity,
By focussing on the things I can do
Rather than on the things I can’t,
In the hope that Mr Parkinson
Will not gain dominion by duplicity!

But alone and awake
In the black dread of night,
My darkest fears engulf me.
Imprisoned inside a useless body
With no parole for good behaviour,
Unable to communicate
That I can bear this life no longer,
So will I be condemned to live
When Death could be my saviour?

But I must cast dread fear aside
And give credit where it’s due,
Mr Parkinson has introduced me
To so many people who care,
So how can I rage against him?
Yes, I know he’s stealing from me,
But his rotten disease has blessed me
With such true and caring friendship
A quality so rare!

End