The following poem is from a collection of 41 written by me to try describing Huntington’s Disease (HD).
Under UK law the Driver & Vehicle Licensing Agency (DVLA) requires that holders of licenses with the HD gene inform them upon becoming symptomatic. This poem touches on the dilema facing families of those whose livelihood depends on driving, e.g a London “Black Cab” driver, even if just “at risk”.
The Driver
He did ‘The Knowledge’ years ago,
His black cab is his pride.
Had many a star in back of cab,
All glad to take his ride.
The freedom of the road his love,
His streetwise savvy too.
He’s earned a good rate working hard,
The bad fares have been few.
Then suddenly he heard his bruv,
“Isn’t doing well.”
His Mrs and Bruv’s wife cry,
Though neither bird will tell.
Just why the sudden misery?
His Mrs, she won’t say.
And how come she’s been looking up,
The bleedin DVLA?
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