PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was not an easy thing to do

But it was as simple as 

Sending a message from my brain

To my legs, for them to move,

I've done it maybe a million times,

But this time I couldn't kick it in,

I was sitting there working up 

Something to say to remedy things,

Sometimes you can't though,

You can't keep shooting words

And expecting them to stick,

So I sat there and collected 

All my strength, which was very little,

I cried, as I imagined I would,

The walls squeezed me tight

until this room was as uncomfortable 

As any I had been in,

I was a foreign invader 

In a body of someone healthy

And her words were strong medicine,

I did though, get up,

I managed to get up and 

Before I could walk away she

Hugged me and it ran through

My brain that this was it,

This was the last time I would get

To hold this version of a person

Who after this moment would cease,

She would move on 

And my usual self would stay stuck

For a year or two like I always do,

But I'll never forget the stranglehold

Of that room,

And the feeling of my legs revolting

Against My decision,