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They don’t ask for permission,
They never feel remorse,
They steel you from your daily life,
With lightening speed and force.
You can’t see them coming,
And there’s no way to know when,
So you try to lead a normal life,
As normal as you can.
I fall down,
Upon the ground,
I writhe and twist and shake.
Caught by surprise,
I don’t realize,
What is about to partake.
Bystanders they gape,
At my altered state,
All of them stopping to stare.
That girl she’s a freak,
She can’t even speak,
Her memory gone,
And She doesn’t know where.
They call 9-1-1,
Cause they know not what to do,
As I lay there drooling,
Wetting my pants,
And then I begin to turn blue.
Sweating profusely,
Shaking like mad,
I might bite my tung,
But not know I had.
This goes on for several minutes,
Five or six or three,
And when I wake up,
People are standing over me.
Asking questions like:
What year is it?
And what is today?
What’s your Name?
Are you doing ok?
There’s much you can’t remember,
You just want to go home,
Your head aches, your body hurts,
And you just want to be alone.
It could be much worse though,
It’s sad but it’s true,
Some people never liv through,
These spells where neurons misfire,
And all of your brain waves go haywire.
Some of them may vomit,
Others may choke,
Medicine helps some of them,
But for some it just won’t.
The brain needs guidance,
It knows not where to go,
It just locks up,
And oxygen can’t flow.
So god takes over,
And says give him to me,
He stops his last breath,
A sad tragedy.
There’s nothing good about it,
It’s never any fun,
But that is what a seizure is,
And now my poem is done.
Ashley Seymour
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, October 23, 2009 |
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Poets
