Re: 's poem

[Guest guest]

To an extent, I agree with what Sharon says. None of us want the MonSter that is MS. However, you ~` ,are taking this affliction and crafting something worthwhile and touching--a Poem. I'd like to consider myself a poet, and writing, journaling and poetry are gifts we can give ourselves and others...to sum in a more secular way our message at our church service yesterday--we weren't promised a rose garden; or if we were, there are thorns a-plenty, and weeds as well. It is what we do with the pain. We can choose to live burdened, awful lives. Or we can do what most of us seem to do here; smile through the tears; reach out and touch someone else's life; demonstrate our grace under the heaviness, pain and difficulties MS creates for us. Thank you for sharing this poem, '. Blessings on you. kate> Sorry, I hadn't seen it before. Here it is for all of those who > missed it like I did. It's an excellent poem ' and brings > up some very good points. Thank you so much for writing it and > sharing it. I just wish it wasn't written from the heart and > that you didn't feel the things you wrote of. > > hugs to you )))> > Sharon> > > > > > As I awake, my legs and arms do not.> My legs are like lead, or wrapped in a wet blanket, unable to > move on their own, numb and heavy as if I have just run a twenty-> six mile marathon on hot, burning sand. Pain welcomes me for > another day in It’s presence, always there, mocking me.> > > My arms are still asleep, numb to any feeling as if a 500-> pound person had slept on them all night. I try to close my > hands and they resist, stubborn, with a mind of their own, > frozen in partial closure as if sculptured by an artist.> > > But this is no artist, this is hell, pain, suffering, > aloneness, stares from people who do not understand, friends > say, ”If you just got up and did something, you’d feel better.”> > > But I do get up and start another day. Today my legs won’t > support me so I must crawl to the bathroom. I am a nurse, I care > for others but who is there to care for me? Not the friends, my > family and me are alone to battle this monster, this stealer of > dreams who mocks you while you sleep of memories and wishes and > dreams. > > This is Multiple Sclerosis.> > > > > > > > > > __________________________________________________>