At Four A.M.

by Tom Harris
(Columbus, GA, USA)

At four a.m., I lie awake; the world is still.
The body is stiff, won’t toss or turn, my mind churns.
Another day, legs still don’t work, hours to fill.

So many things I cannot do. I brood until
My mind rages, fills with regrets, and then it yearns.
At four a.m., I lie awake; the world is still.

I’d like to walk through a park, maybe climb a hill,
Chase a ball, jump for joy – I’d love to. My mind burns;
Another day, legs still don’t work, hours to fill

Watching TV, surfing the Net. It gives me a chill,
That thought of nothing to do, and my stomach just turns.
At four a.m., I lie awake; the world is still.

It’s strange, how many times I have wished I felt ill
And content with what I cannot do. Weird concerns.
Another day, legs still don’t work, hours to fill.

Damned Multiple Sclerosis, it’s a bitter pill.
Stay positive, they say. I try, but anger returns.
At four a.m., I lie awake, the world is still;
Another day, legs still don’t work, hours to fill.