While the world
goes about their day
talking about trival things, 
laughing their troubles away,
I am struck with 
paralyzing pain
that I try to contain. 

Everyone close to me 
is oblivious 
to my suffering.

Why should they care?
They have their own 
drama to deal with.
There is nothing 
anyone can do anyway. 

Meanwhile, my body
betrays me more 
each passing day.

I want to curse 
and scream at 
I don't know what,
some invisible entity 
that likes to test my faith.

Instead I weep and 
ask the annointed air,
"Why?"

I don't have stories 
of drug and alcohol abuse.
My biggest sin has been 
the Standard American Diet
and a sedentary lifestyle.

Who knew it could lead to 
a fate worse than death.
A slow, imperceptible,
decline in physical health.

At first, a little short of breath
while climbing stairs, then heavy eyelids,
a pinch to the heart, a punch to the gut, 
a karate chop to the back, now sweep the legs... 

Who would believe that fried chicken, 
sweet tea, and ice cream 
could lead to blurred vision 
and an army of rogue cells
fighting for control of my body?

The solution is simple 
experts say,
eat less, move more. 

Maybe that was a viable option
at 24, 34, 44, 54, but it doesn't 
seem to help much anymore.

Perhaps it's all just  
part of growing old.
Probably is, truth be told.

After the pain subsides,
and common sense returns,
I am grateful that I still
have my beautiful soul
and a poetic mind that helps me
process the pain so I can
return to living again.
.