Tired of sitting here

I am tired of sitting here
Heaving a mighty sigh
As I am fed up of waiting
For the end of life to die

Watching my own body
Simply dissipate each day
Gradually soon even unable
To type my words away

Knowing that I leave
A partner kids behind
Hoping that in life
They have little pain to find

Praying ever to God
That he may be swift or kind
...

Hourly pains

Quarter to twelve
As I lie here to delve
Over my past life
The heartache and strife
Quarter past one
Where has sleep gone?
Its left me ran away
To struggle tired every day
Quarter past two
What am I to do?
Another sleepless night
Can I get nothing right?
Quarter past three
My eyes can just barely see
I really need to sleep
And not try to weep
Quarter past four...

Maybe my last poem

Sadly my friends, I cannot now talk
Nor can I truly hardly even simply walk
In thought yes I can still ever speak
Although my body is terribly weak

I am seemingly just a simple shell
In this disease that’s direct from hell
Indeed it’s well named the Devils Disease
It has took my every little bit of ease

It is making me indeed way too ill
Taking my every little last bit of will
...

Terminal illness makes you think

Terminal illness makes you think
You have thickener in all you drink
If you did not you would choke
This is serious and this is no joke

They say thickening drink is better
It makes you fear anything wetter
It catches your breath each time
You cough bitter as if drinking lime

It can leave you quite often crying
Makes your family ever be sighing
Leaves daily thoughts...

Dry Mouth and Throat

Imagine an mega ultra dry mouth
And let’s also throw your throat in too
Now imagine your head hitting the pillow
Off to sleep then this happens to you

You’re okay when standing sitting up
Then your saliva is in seeming excess
So much that you slaver frequently
And end up looking quite a fine mess

So let’s go back to that awful dryness
Within you every literal passing night
Sometimes...