Wednesday, 6 October 2010

Man turned Misog (entitled by the daughter)

Is it a blessing or is it a curse,
to live like this, is there anything worse?
Unable to talk, unable to eat,
fully dependent, not standing on my own two feet.
Waking each day is a double edged sword,
the gift of life should not be ignored,
I am well looked after, my wife is a saint,
but it's wrong that she suffers, her life is restrained,
I am a burden, of that there's no doubt,
she would be better off if I checked out,
my family wouldn't say that, and that's for sure,
but I know I'm a drag, so show me the door.
I realise I seem negative and somewhat down,
and I do appreciate the love that I'm shown,
but how would you be if you were like me,
I used to be so different, flying free,
we planned to travel, a world to explore,
but I can't do that any more.
That shouldn't stop Julie, this wouldn't be fair,
and my kids are in limbo, because they care.
Should I hang on, hoping for a cure?
It's not up to me, of that I am sure.
For I cannot move, so I have no choice.
My life is not my own, I have no voice.
This is how I feel, for better or otherwise.
I must sit in this chair, and contemplate my demise.

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