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Ode To An Epileptic Child I'm sitting in a waiting room some thirty years later. Looking into the faces here I know, that I too, look faded. The children here,have padded gear. A helmet and a chin gaurd. I try not to cry when I look at them. Do they always look this tired? . A fear that they will hear the words I'll never say. Don't look into my eyes child, The pictures they convey! When my name is called I find relief. The doctor says we will be brief. He'll send me home today with notes and things that other doctors wrote. A new and exciting procedure only just an experiment but it may set you free from this never ending torment... There'll be several weeks of testing. No time for you to be resting. We'll be running probes into your brain and we'll make you have a seizure again. And when we're done, you could be cured! The generations to come can be reassured The information this gives us may be just what we need that children of tomorrow won't have epilepsy. What we hope, is to find the spot that tiny electrode that jumps alot. You should be able to return home We'll cut it out and take it away but we can't say how long to a petri dish where it will stay you may have to start all over if anything should go wrong. Can somebody please tell me what I'm doing here? Surely this is a dream? |
Additional Notes:
Hot off the press with no polish....I'm simply venting...depending on the reviews I may decide to take this poem from a more serious approach...stay tuned for part three....(smile) This format is really just designed to make it all fit on one page, but it does show how interrupted life can be for an epileptic.
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