The Invisible Illness

by davebarclay1954

The trouble with others, as far as I can tell,

Is if you don’t have tell tale signs,

A plaster, or a wheelchair or even a bad smell

They think you’re fine and nothing wrong
Try telling them to keep up as you hurry along

Walking at 100 miles an hour so much to do

Whistling tunelessly, or singing your song

When the down comes it hits like a punch to the jaw
This, my friend, is my world you can have it,

Nothing to it, really, I’m up so high

Flying without wings, going through hyperspace,

Passing through the Milky Way on my way, bye bye.

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