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Some people with ME/CFS find a creative outlet in poetry. We receive a good number of poems each year. We feature them regularly in ME Essential magazine and on social media. Now we have a permanent place for them on the website. If you'd like your poem considered, then please send it to: Feedback@meassociation.org.uk
David Pearce
O Doctor! My Doctor!
My muscles will not work,
My eyes are so light sensitive
I’m peering through the murk.
My ears, I fear, are ringing here
Like bells in near church towers,
It takes me every ounce of strength
To clean in tepid showers.
O Therapist! My Therapist!
My Doctor sent me here,
He says my lack of exercise
Is simply caused by fear.
‘I quite agree, the mind you see
Can cause all sorts of illness,
Now, Mindfulness! O Mindfulness
Will cure you with it’s stillness’.
O Cardiologist! My Cardiologist!
My heart it skips and races,
‘You have A-Fib and SVT
It’s harmless in most cases.
But here’s a pill’, (it made me ill)
‘Relax and live your life’,
Now I cannot work nor function well
I’m reliant on my wife.
O Consultant! My Consultant!
I’m laying here in bed,
Contemplating all this illness
That isn’t in my head.
I’ve had it thirty years now
It isn’t getting better,
And all that you could recommend
Was CBT in your letter.
O Saints! O God! O Anyone!
Can you simply hear my prayers?
It’s Winter and the heating’s off
I’m not wearing many layers.
The sweat, you see, it pours from me
But I’ll be freezing in a minute,
My thermometer must be broken,
I might as well just bin it.
So M.E! O My M.E!
I’m running out of road,
Exhaustion, pain, my aching back
Is bearing quite a load.
Those thirty years have worn me thin
My appetite has shrunk,
I think I’ve really had enough
Of living like a monk.