The Cranky Patient

I could have one disease
Or two, but really,
Now we’re pushing it a bit.
A disease or two
And a condition,
Would suffice, but no,
Still more afflictions.
No one really wants to hear
Me prattle about how this hurts
Or how old beyond my years
I feel, when something is
too much,
too hard,
too not the me I was.

Too sad really, this inflammation
Of so many systems,
But especially the one that sustains
My sense of self.
In jeopardy? What little beauty I agree I carry.

Ah, the gnarling
Of body parts and soul
The fierce ignorance of how short
The race really is,
And how much more comfortable it would be
In sneakers.