PD FFS

PD FFS

Ironic, this constant ache,

which it seems I cannot shake;

From the moment that I wake,

tremors like a man on Jake,

time measured by pills I neck;

Pleasures granted I used to take,

fail to rise, a half-baked cake,

drools, slitters, again I check;

Drawn a dud in life’s sweepstake,

missed the ladder, down the snake,

called tails not heads, a mistake.

someone’s standing on the brake;

News of cures are always fake,

hope now a vanishing lake,

plans and dreams I now forsake.