Rob, my life partner, daily faces the reality of living with Multiple Sclerosis. This is a beautiful elegy by him, about his state of being.
Quick repartee, not my style anymore,
Mine’s disappeared, less thought, lost it’s core,
In days now gone by I could joust with the best,
Charge against those who would challenge the quest,
Gallop along upon strong steeds of words,
Harness the power of nouns, subjects, verbs,
Push hard on the lance of bright, new ideas,
Piercing through armour of hatred and fears,
Parry and thrust with thoughts and illusion,
Pairing companions with hard fought for fusion,
Adjectives tripping off waterfall tongue,
Cascading to whirlpool of banter and fun.
But now my brain’s foggy, lies dank, dark and cold,
Slowed by these lesions, some new and some old,
Blocking the impulses, stopping their run,
Conduction now frozen, icing the pun,
Nerves lying exposed, fragile and broken,
Crushed, severed lines where words can’t be spoken.
Saliva slow meanings now drool from my lips,
This well worn out fool left begging for tips,
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