Sciatica's My Attica

**I'm on a roll, poetically speaking, this morning---a trilogy of poetry!

 

 

                     SCIATICA’S MY ATTICA

                                    ----by Firstelle

 

Sciatica’s my Attica, I’m imprisoned by the pain,

I wish it would go away and not return again;

I’ve only suffered the past few years, if anyone recalls,

I wrote about the cause of it in “The Legends of My Falls.”

Forget the shots and surgery, the thought of those makes me ill,

For I would rather self-medicate when I’m desperate for a pill;

I don’t want to be a complainer, for that is not my style,

But acknowledging it in a poem? That can make me smile.

I took the step to write of this, and now you know my issue,

And if you’re feeling sad for me, go ahead, grab a tissue;

But the BVG’s, all of us, we are so afflicted,

We use laughter instead of drugs so we won’t get addicted.

We know our bodies are wearing out, we’re old---who can deny it?

We can take a little of an ‘organ recital,’ but not a steady diet--

Of whining and crying and bemoaning our lot in life, for we are so blessed:

We have each other to help lift us up, and God takes care of the rest!