Made Me Feel [rev] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

I waddle & strut like a duck, hobbling behind you as my
adrenaline-fuelled joy was declared evil since my quiet
depression suits you so much better, reflecting on life I
plan that should I lose use of my legs one day, it’ll be a
sign I’m ready to die: Deepak Chopra, Indian guru who
is a charlatan par excellence says: we Humans choose
our hour of death & we can stay young until then - well

I lost that as soon as osteoarthritis was decreed as the
curse over me- so much for Indian yogi with false hope
messages- one day I still believed and the next day my
bones creaked and conked in - great, now my mantra’s
choosing my death & carefully deciding the hour ahead
knowing you’ll be content, never again horrified by these
adrenaline-fired passions for dancing and you’ll subside

And sigh as much as you like - without my interfering by
laughing and joking inappropriately; and after my death I
wish you a very angry wife who’ll fight and box your ears
when you curse in tears as your superb rugby team loses
again - she’ll take over household accounts and give you
a pitiful allowance frowning at you all the time while I’ll be
watching and laughing in spirit because she’ll make you

Feel like you made me feel too often in life…


[ORIGINAL: ]

I waddle and strut like a duck, hobbling behind
you as my adrenaline-fuelled joy was declared
evil and my calming depression suits your taste
so much better- a despondent thought comes:

As soon as I lose the use of my legs it’s time to
die, like Indian guru Deepak Chopra, charlatan
par excellence, says, humans can choose their
hour of death and stay young until then - well -

I lost that as soon as osteoarthritis was decreed
as a curse over me, so much for Indian yogi with
false hope messages: one day I still believed and
the next day my bones creaked and conked in –

Great, now my mantra is the death sentence to be
fulfilled by my deciding the hour: you’ll be satisfied
as you’ll never be horrified by the adrenaline-fired
passion for music & dancing again - you’ll subside

And sigh as much as you like without my meddling
by laughing and joking inappropriately, & after my
death I wish you a serious wife who’ll fight you and
box your ears when you curse in tears as your

Favourite rugby team loses again – she’ll take over
household accounts and give you a pitiful allowance
and frown at you all the time, and I’ll be watching in
spirit and laughing because you’ll feel as you

Made me feel too often in life…