An Every Day Occuring Mis-Spent Painfilled Arthritic Day. Poem by Michael Gale

An aching body racked with pain...
Shows off it's negativity to life's disdaine.
Pain does shoot through out this body's own frame...
This pain is sharp as a fast spreading flame.
Soreness in neck and back and hips...
Brings forth an ouch! delivered from these own two lips.
I walk bent over from side to side...
Arthritus in this body, from others, this pain is hard to hide.
A gaite walked barely able...
Shows a tenderness of the spine, that's displayed as like a construction crane's own broken, snapped cable.
This walk is as if taken, while walking softly on a ground of eggs...
The only helping amnesiac of the brain and body's pain, consist's
of only a beer filled keg.
Too many pills, that which are all daily swallowed...
Is a constant reminder, of what is medically allowed.
A prayer sent up to Heaven, is what should be sent..
Finally-many days in pain, was my body, well too often angrilly
spent.
Pain and a sorrowed anger is usually the daily spent, meth'...
Which will only end in my much yearned, ever wanting, final day's ending death.
No more saddened, painful-pill popping days...
No more painful suffering ways.
This is the final peaceful end...
Ah, at last-Amen!