Like the breeze that blows across the lake,
And the trees swaying in the breeze,
She is gone forever and never to return.
A vision of loveliness goes away for ever more.
In the doom of the darkness we suffer from birth to death,
It is hopeless and we are almost helpless--
The victims of a disease that rapes our bodies;
And we become desperate victims of its wrath.
But you are finally here to rescue me
From the bowels of this terrible state of despair;
And I will forever be grateful to the one thing that cares;
Cause apparently some do not give a damn.
So, we go to the most welcome state of dream land,
And we once again revive our exhausted bodies
To survive the next stages of symptoms we cannot fake.
Then, the new day dawns and we are ready to live again.
Because we survived another time of great darkness.
DANCING
PARTNER
A Parkinsonian never knows when the dance will begin
Since your partner is always around the entire 24 hours.
You will dance at intervals each day and start again.
Never knowing how, where, why, or when it will end.
This is not your typical waltz, mamba, or jitterbug,
Because the movements are not ever controllable;
And you cannot just grab a partner and cut a rug
Since each day is another day of being miserable.
This is the mega-dreaded and despised dyskinesia
That so many PD patients suffer throughout their illness.
Some are embarassed by their peers constant teasing,
While others just act nonchalant and cope with the duress.
Your dancing partner goes with you wherever you may go,
And some folks you feel are just waiting and staring;
So they can experience the agony of the next painful show
While you just want the performance to end without sharing.
Copyright By: Carol B. Meenen
