The curse.

The Curse.

 

You won’t know you’ve been chosen, until it settles in

It drops you little clues at first and then says “ Let’s begin.”

To stifle you when walking, to take away your smile.

To stop you sleeping peacefully, to really cramp your style.

 

To shake you up and “ Rock your world” like MIchael Jackson said.

To make you wish you’d not been born, to wish that you were dead.

You’ll take your medication to curb its cruel assault.

It’s a random curse that’s chosen you and no one is at fault.

 

The staggering shaking palsy was how it gained its fame.

Till a certain Dr Parkinson, gave the curse his name.
You’ve got to put a fight up, determined not to fail.

Trying to face the future, with a tiger on your tail.

 

Your voice is getting weaker,you struggle being heard.

You try to form a sentence but forget the final word.

It’s just a minor chemical, gone AWOL from your brain.

It turns your laughter into tears and sunshine into rain.

 

Your keep your head above the storm and try to keep afloat

Surviving in the liferaft, that used to be a boat.

The devil comes to visit you, in the early hours.

He says he’s going to let you live, but take away your powers.

 

He says he’s going to punish you, for someone else’s crime

Imprison you behind the walls until the end of time.

He’ll be your puppet master, he’s gonna take control.

He’ll take your body and your mind, but never have your soul.

 

You go on undefeated in your struggle to be strong.

You live to fight another day, and prove the devil wrong.

You look the devil in the eye and fight with your last breath.

Your strategy for conflict is fighting to the death.

 

You still believe in living, you’re giving it a go

The grief you keep inside you, no one will ever know.

Determination drives you,whilst shuffling your shoes

Because you are a warrior you’ll never ever lose.

 

The battle’s never over. You fight it every day.

You’re going to beat the devil’s curse and send him on his way

You wear your warpaint everyday whilst weathering the storm.

You’re marching into battle, with legs that won’t conform.

 

You start the race as underdog every single day

But tell yourself, you’ll never let the devil have his way.

Somewhere deep inside yourself, this curse it will reveal

A stronger version of yourself, a soldier forged from steel.

 

The curse is yours for keeps, till the ending of your life.

It punishes your family, your husband or your wife.

We’ll never be defeated, of this you can be sure.

We’ll keep on fighting Parkinson’s until there is a cure.