Diss- Eases! Poem by Michael Gale
Diss- Eases!
Disease...Maybe, just maybe-It should be pronounced or spelled as disss-ease.
Our life is dis at ease...No longer running full tilt...
Until at last-We slowly drain, then wilt.
No longer does the blood flow freely through our veins...
It freezes to a screeching halt.
Our lives are by an unseen force-Diss and at ease or progress.
Cancers, Heart Attacks, Pneumonia, Alzheimer's, Dementia, it never ceases...Only us in our numbers, are we always becoming a numerical statistical book of decreases.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:50:36 AM # 1.0.0.1119
