I notice it's April Fool's Day but my poem is not a joke. I have such bizarre annoying sensations because I believe a drug I was given messed up my nervous system. I only mentioned half my problems in this poem, but in some ways, I have improved slightly over the past year. I'm not in any great pain. Just feel like an alien. I found the word Bizacko online and found it quite fitting because indeed, I feel bizarre and whacko every day now! Please ladies, if a doctor tries to put you on Prolia, DON'T DO IT.
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