Wheelchair Olympics
Hardly wheelchair Olympics, dumped in a corner
Carer giggles with friends minus little Jack Horner
Waiting for the nurse like furniture in the hall
Conversations are worse- like I'm not there at all.
Speak at me! I feel I should scream
I still exist outside your disabled dream
I'm not a geriatric who likes the odd tipple
My spirit survives; intellect is no cripple
My eye absorbs all art; my heart feels deep the prose
I live every classic part minus the waist down to the toes.
Hardly wheelchair Olympics, touring Sainsbury's with a guide
Inspecting every joint of meat, clinging to my pride
'Anything you've forgotten? ' my helper opts to talk
'Only a bag of frozen peas, and the ability to walk.'
Self pity, someone will say, some naive cheeky chappy
Whlie i sit in cold light of day, waiting for my nappy.
Talking louder is a prerequisite
As they stop with grin so plastic
Manners to be exquisite
When conversing with a 'spastic'
Whipers that you hear, idiots that you flee
They'll never know that fear of silent soliloquy.
So now I smile through the grin of a cynic
Dining out in fine eateries galore
So glad to break free of that clinic
Where my dignity stayed at the door.
poem by Kevin East
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.