Listen To ME

Writing Poetry


Listen To ME

Good morning television
My company for the day
I hope you haven’t missed me
While I’ve been away
I’ve been in bed, not well you see
There’s a big long word
But we call it M.E.

Used to be out there
Working and doing ‘stuff’
Then one day, whilst away
I started feeling rough

Now have trouble walking
The brain’s not all that clear
Sorry, I’ll shut up talking
I’m sure you don’t want to hear

Nobody does these days it seems
All a bit of a rush
I see you’ve got some company
So suppose I’d better hush

I told you its name already
But you’ve probably forgotten
It affects all our systems
And makes life pretty rotten

We don’t get near the funds we need
To help us find a cure
If we had a face, to head our chase
We’d be nearer that’s for sure

I like that Joanna Lumley
You get in for a chat
She does a lot for the Ghurkhas
I’m really chuffed with that

We could do with our ‘Joanna’
Who’d give M.E. a face
We need a voice to make some noise
As we’re so far off the pace

An up and coming soapy
Who’d natter all day long
Or somebody older
Who might be bolder
And shout out loud and strong

Medical matters get attention
But ME…. hardly a mention
The favoured ills are on a loop
Which is great if you’re in that chosen group
But it’s like being trapped inside a lift
Listening to a twenty year old riff

So TV in the corner
Can you lend a hand ?
You’re full of national wannabe’s
Would one make a stand ?

I don’t care if it’s heartfelt
Or to boost a flagging career
We just need more awareness
For the world to really hear

I know you can’t reply to me
Or hear my constant rants
I’ll chat to the chair,
Like there’s somebody there
I’ll even talk to my plants !
As now bereft, of friends who’ve left
Like there was a fire in their pants…

Or maybe our voice is the one we have
The millions torn from the lives we had
We know we can’t rely on others
We must become family, sisters, brothers

We have to be the strength we need
To be the ones who plant the seed
So let’s stay strong and sing our song
And one day we’ll be freed.

By Bill Clayton


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