He sits quietly looking through the window, knowing everything that is going on, not being able to talk or sing a song
He cannot move a muscle or even twitch, cannot move his hands to scratch an itch
He just sits in his chair with a melancholy stare relying on someone to clean him bare
feeling humiliation from insensitivity, roughly handled while carer's watch TV. 
Crying without tears carrying the same fears
it's been the same for almost twenty years.
Genius mind counting, like quoting a hymn 
complicated sums, logarithms 
cleverest person in the neighbourhood 
intelligent man not understood 
wheelchair bound, he will never again move
at least he enjoyed some of his youth
until he had that frightful fall
without that slip he might have been tall
spiritually trapped within his skin
virtually alive to his nearby kin
every sense has been lost 
except the five senses a gift to most
Adam waits silently still
Travels to the sun and back without mobile skill.