Hips - a poem
Hips don't mean to do it
These bones that belong to me
The cushion flooring was faulty
There was no guarantee, that
The warranty lasts a lifetime
(Smallprint too tiny to see)
Hips don't mean to do it
I tried to keep them well
Good intentioned exercise
Good intentioned meals
but 30 years of children began to take its toll
My thumb hurt, my elbows hurt and my knees hurt like hell
Hips and back
Well there's the crack
Crutches arrived
X-rays back
Bi-onic hips, there's a thing
To get you moving
To make you sing (again)
Hips don't mean to do it
New joints belong to me
90 degrees of trouble and strife
A two hour shower, a two hour life
With struggles that no one understands and
Legs that refuse to follow commands
I'm from Venus, hips from Mars
No one can see my battle scars
But,
the pain is less, the limp is soothed
the struggle lessens, life improved
Your hips don't mean to do it
when they pain you every day
You meet fabulous people along the way
And I guess the only thing I'll say,
is
You'll live to fight another day