Poetry

Why just walk if I can run? Why just run if I can jump? Why just jump if I can leap? Why just leap if I can dance?

What really matters is not what I have but who I am. I am still me I am still the same me I was before you or I knew I had Parkinson's.

I'm being chased by a thief, a monster, hanging at the edges of my life, waiting to steal from me my movement my joy my smile.

What if I want to rage Like a storm at sea Against the words I heard – The firing squad.

Written by PCLA community member Amy Sommer Childress

Parkinson’s poem by Alan Ascher. I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s at the age of Sixty-Five. I was told “a pill and exercise” would get me out alive.