Doug Logan posted this poem on the Young Onset Parkinson’s FB page. When I read it, I considered how blessed I am to have supportive, dearly adored caregivers in both the two-legged and four-legged varieties
With the four-legged variety in mind, I asked Doug if I could share his poem.He answered., “Yes,” followed by “it is to our caregivers in whatever form that may be.”
Sometimes I feel as though I’m trapped in a cage,
It fills me with anger, resentment and rage;
This cage it is made of my own flesh and bone,
It’s worse than any made of wood, steel or stone.
My limbs will all tremble as if I’m nervous or cold,
I no longer write, hands won’t do as they’re told;
My feet, they are heavy and make me walk slow,
My face a blank canvas, no expressions will show.
I want to still show you I love you and care,
But all you can see is a cold lonely stare.
You must always ask me to repeat what I’ve said;
My speech is much slower than what I’ve thought in my head.
I want to run to your arms and embrace,
But my feet won’t move I’m frozen in place;
You’re there to catch me if I stumble and fall;
You stand there beside me and give me your all.
You’ve seen me through the good and the bad,
You’ve been there to cheer me when I’ve felt blue and sad;
When my battle is over and it’s time to go,
Know you’ve always meant more than I could ever show.