Sonnet 6

Sonnet 6 - Parkinson's

*Dark PD Poem warning*

Compare me not with the many of wealth

and conclude I'm for want of gold forlorn.

From many treasures lost it is for health

alone that in my silence I will mourn.

I am Sadness, who smothers all those near,

a mere Spoiler of all their happy times,

as I slowly ebb and flow fighting fear,

confused as to what manner of grave crimes

I have done to warrant this hell on earth.

Where peaceful is a place gifted by chance

when the simple things again hold great worth

and full of life's fury I once more dance.

For the shortest while, this reprieve too brief

shows to me the promise of futures late

then in a moment, I'm a falling leaf

spent and broken as the ground I await.

But I've lived a life well and not of show

and I have loved and of love I still know.