Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.144.250.2
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
Constantly shaking on edge feel at risk 
My insides feel like they got caught up in a whisk 
The aches and pains that define my days 
Take over my life in so many ways 
My bowel does not like me 
My legs and hips moan; 
'When will you please, just rest me at home?' 
 
 
Yet when I lie there so ready for sleep 
All cuddled up and fall in a heap 
The slumber I pray for takes me by surprise 
As adrenaline runs through me 
No rest for tired eyes 
Finally rested, the dreams start to take me 
So half an hour later the demons will wake me  
Yet again the cycle begins 
All I need is more sleep 
To help recover my limbs  
 
 
My body a wreck, feels like it's hungover 
Remembering times when the drink won me over  
Nowadays it's a cola just to keep me awake 
No one believes what a sad girl I make  
 
 
My neck is so heavy my arms made of lead 
Who knew how hard it could be just to hold up my head 
My wrists start to shake as I continue to type 
This 'illness' is dreadful so where's all the hype? 
Little research, hardly a supporter 
Who will help me and then fix my daughter? 
 
 
As I sit here feeling sorry and guilt for my moans 
Those GP's with 'wisdom' sit high on their thrones 
Disbelieving and misunderstanding 
Not believing I sometimes can't even stray from my landing 
Some days it's too hard,  too much to bare 
I feel hurt from my toes to the end of my hair 
 
 
'Get yourself out there, do more exercise!' 
'It's all just down to the size of your thighs' 
So hydro I did and physio too. I lost even a stone and strengthened too 
Yet 18 months on - so I should be strong? 
Better i should feel, yet it all still feels  so wrong 
Panting and huffing and sweating at night 
I get through another week coz I put up a fight 
Why do I still feel so incredibly 'wasted'? 
Did I do something wrong that must have been hated? 
 
 
Appreciate I have so much for to live 
But energy no more do I have to give  
Leave me here to lie and sleep 
Feel sorry for myself and continue to weep 
Bring me tramadaol my wheat bags and water 
I must motivate to show I can move for my daughter 
 
 
Every day I keep going keep trying 
But If I said I was happy I'd probably be lying

Victoria Payne
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required