I wasn't a particularly creative person in school, though I did like to read poetry. My love of writing has only developed since I was diagnosed. At first I wrote poems for family and friends. Now I write to express myself. Instead of dwelling on my condition, I write. It's like a medicine for me. I don't think about symptoms, or feel sorry for myself while I'm writing. I wrote this poem; it was published in the Parkinson's Post. I've had Parkinson's since 1999. I was born April 12, 1953. I live in Enfield, NS, but was born in Codroy, NL.

From Someone Who Knows

Our face expressions most times look blank with a stare.
A depressed look you're most likely to see there.

Lots of times it's like our bodies are on trial.
On the inside and out for us we have happiness, but not always a smile.

Parkinson's makes our loving faces look down.
Turning them into sadness, worry and frowns.

Moods can change all so quick and fast.
Tears for no reason will just blast.

We're still the same people you always knew.
We have to take medications to help us through.

We laugh, joke, even try to carry a tune.
We may never be famous, or ever go to the moon.

We have many moments of sadness, forgetfulness and pain.
That we all endure Parkinson's is no game.

There will be stress, fear, worry and lots of hard work.
With shaking, twitching, even body jerks.

There's many Parkinson's groups, fundraisers and events.
One day at a time is how our lives are spent.

Research costs money, Parkinson's costs pain.
To find a cure is one big fighting game.

Young people and elders are both struck down.
Until a cure for Parkinson's is found.

Joan Fraser (Collier)   Submitted By: NULL