The Thief: Arthritis
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You arise slow as fingers aching,
and soon an entire hand is shaking.
Then, bandit the feeling in toes taking,
hijacking feet so each step is hard making.
Creeping- until all joints feel like breaking.
In the end no part does not throb,
pilferer of strength to even turn a knob.
I hear you laugh enjoying your inside job,
pirate, all I can do is be quite still and sob.
I take pills to keep you subdued,
they give a short but sweet interlude;
but you came back in a vengeful mood.
I heard yoga would keep you calm,
and got on line a secret magic joint balm.
You just went about your work! Arthritis, I hate your name !
Often you stab me with daggers breathtaking,
eluding scientific experiments you invading snob.
You twist and turn fingers and toes so they protrude,
the pain so great I am left weeping and calling for my mom,
but you have no mercy, no receding and on you go with no shame.
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January 27, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/The Thief: Arthritis
Copyright Protected, ID 18-986-592-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Minuanetta
sponsor, Gregory R Barden (Theme - Chremaphism)
Fourth Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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