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Upright Burden

Broken bones and broken spirit.
Why me? Why does it have to be me?
Crushed; on the ground,
Again brought down to my knees.
Feel life in my bones;
But do these bones want to breathe?
Crippled and broken.
This inability makes me seethe.

I can’t get up!
I’m falling still!
This upright burden
Has almost broken my will.
Evolve equals improve;
So why do I want to regress?
This upright burden
Is something I detest.

Broken muscle, only a fragment of want.
Is it in me? I don’t think it is in me.
God give me strength,
The embarrassment doesn’t motivate me.
Feel life in my bones;
But do these bones wish to live?
Crippled and broken.
Dropped; when these weak limbs give.

I can’t get up.
Why can’t I stand up?
Distress eats at me.
I can’t help me.


1. internet elias - February 12, 2010

woops..’taughted’ should read ‘taught’

2. internet elias - February 12, 2010

Whoa. This one clearly seems to be your focus and anger at the Muscular dystrophy. Wouldn’t blame you. Bummer. But the inner man is the ‘man.’ Not the body. Body is dust and to dust will return. The ‘man’ is spirit and eternal. Wow. I taughed severely disabled studens for eighteen years. Some with Duchanne MD. I saw them ‘live’ their lives in spite of the burden. And I saw them come to the end of their experience here…in this ‘seen’ world. But they all knew about the ‘unseen.’ I will never forget the beautiful days I had with them and their families.


phoenixaeon - February 12, 2010

Hi Carolyn,

This poem was written before I had the diagnosis. I didn’t know what was wrong and it was very frustrating, especially as I had been telling my GP that something wasn’t right for eight years. The focus and anger was at the loss of control and the not knowing why it was happening, especially as the obvious muscle weakness only started to around my teens.

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