My Daily Show

When you look at me,
What is it that you see?
Do you see a body uncontrolled,
Trying desperately to fit into a mold?
Do you see legs searching for a way
To put one in front of another each day?
Can you see past my clouds of pain
To the name and purpose that I claim?
Can you reach over your wall
To steady my stance so I don’t fall?
Does my struggle turn your head
Away from a reality you may dread?
Is it hard for you to watch me try
To walk or smile as you pass by?
Do my movements embarrass you
While they change with every view?
Do you ever wonder where my mind goes
When locked in a body completely froze?

I ask you now to look past my tent.
Look past this disease that will not relent.
Look past the medications that take a toll
And send my mind where I don’t want it to go.
I ask you to try and understand
That this is a life I did not plan.
I get angry and frustrated and I face a fear
That the “me” I know will soon disappear.
So I fight to hold onto who I am,
And sometimes it’s hard to give a damn
About what other people think or need.
But, it is neither about attention nor from greed.
There is no way for you to know
What lay behind my daily show.
The only way to understand and define
PD is to have it.. bottom line.
Inside of my soul, my story lies
To find me, look deep into my eyes.
Once you are there you will finally see
That I have Parkinson’s disease
But it does not have me.

Laura J Dean