Poem, just a poem on psoriatic arthritis

HMF

Finger Up

She’s got her swollen middle finger 

Extended, she can’t bend it back

Into her palm, because it hurts too much,

And stiff,

And she doesn’t know why

She’s been afflicted with a disease

Called psoriatic arthritis 

She doesn’t think she deserves 

This tortured path,

This throbbing red mess

Is so annoying 

And sometimes she cries 

It’s so painful.

Then they tell her 

That the good stuff is in the safe

Waiting for a drug company commercial 

To suck her into the screen

If she asks her doctor 

About some unpronounceable 

Drug that has superpowers 

But also can drain her dry

Via diarrhea, slander, heaves,

Soul stripping, rashes

Bankruptcy proceedings.

Chat lines encourage her

To carry on, persist

Her path will soon change 

The fork in the road

Will soon see its prongs 

Melt away, replaced by a flower,

Blooming, red, velvety 

She’s scared, but carries on

“Sore” iatic she jests 

Hoping that next time 

When she has a blood test

And they ask her to make a fist 

Before drilling her vein,

She doesn’t give the operator

The finger.

olivia_b

Thank you for sharing your poem with us @HMF, we love using creativity as an outlet. Please continue to share more with us.

HMF

People like to tell me I’m better,

After they ask me,

And I say, a little.

I guess I’m scared,

To say too much,

Fearing that the future

May not be full with as much,

Promise as I would like.

frogmorton

You only say a little better to make the asker feel better though don't you?

Sending ((())) and great poems @HMF

Toni x