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Rated: 18+ · Other · Experience · #1986479
a poem about the illness m.s.
COUSIN

It came at the full blossom of youth
He was strong, good looking and full of life
Slowly at first with an ache and a twitch
Like a thief in the shadows jealous of youth
Plucking at the blossoms of stability and agility
Never giving back always taking
Plucking the flower now of mobility and independence
Always taking no remission

What started slowly is now violent and vicious
Ripping into muscle and nerve
Youth has gone, but a blaze of colour still in his eyes
Locked in a broken body
Still fighting the thief in the shadows
That is now attacking internal organs
With no remission, nothing returned.

All that is left is a life of clutching at straws
Belief in false profits and chasing dreams
His days are long, but not as long as the nights
The hissing silence and the pulse of a broken heart   
But when will it end, this disastrous mess
Caused by the thief of life the monster M.S.
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