Disabled
You made me a whore
In the guise of romance
Blond, blue-eyed
Skin like a porcelain god
Decent enough to pass
For a real boyfriend
With your gentlemanly
Opening of doors
And your macho job
Operating a bus
All you wanted I willingly gave
For the things you paid
The giant buffets
The bowling games
Then a stroke took away
Half the man you were
Left your right hand
Right foot paralyzed
I wonder what you can still do
With your good hand and foot
Ninety pounds gone
The spark still in your eyes
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