Despair

I am deformed, degraded,

So desperate, full of dread.

The person I once was has been destroyed!

I am only the remains of a life that once

Was full of vitality, expectancy and hope.

I am reduced to nothing,

I have no sense of worth.

My body is merely a vehicle for my mind,

Its range of competences, once intact,

Is now defunct, its abilities come and go.

My presence is a sham,

Displaying one who is capable,

Confident enough to face the world.

Yet, who do I deceive? I am two people,

Living in a frightening, programmed world.

I rise each day, determined to get through.

Yet as the day presents itself, I sink.

I force myself through life

As through a deep and pressing sea,

Coaxing my body to fulfil its expected role.

My hands won’t move, my lips won’t talk,

My tongue is a folded cloth.

My face a mask, moving in starts,

Unfriendly, resembling metal, stiff and hard

Causing social interaction to be strained.

Val Bowden written in 2000