The following poem is from a collection of 41 written by me to try describing Huntington’s Disease (HD).
At the time of submitting this poem (Nov 2009) I have some paperwork to look at. It’s an application for consideration for “Extra Care Sheltered Housing”.
Basically it’s the equivalent of a retirement home with a warden and carers. Sounds great but the normal criteria is you have to be aged over 60 and that will be the age of the average residents. Because of our circumstances, people think we might be better placed there. We are both 48.
The Best Is Yet To Be
‘Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be’;
It’s clear when Browning, wrote those lines,
He hadn’t met HD!
Meant to retire together;
Married same age as me;
We both envisaged a company clock,
And bungalow by the sea.
In our forties and home together,
O.A.P.s we’ve become before time.
We cannot do ‘fun’, or hols in the sun,
Our mates they are all in their prime.
But there’s one thing we will have forever,
And our friends will one day come to see,
That we may not have grown old together,
But our time was the best it could be.
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