This poem is called Four Hundred, the reason being that an estimated 1 in 400 people in the UK have MS according to the MS Society.
Four Hundred
This story is rare,
This story is unique,
Opening up here I’m stripping myself bare,
Shocks down the spine,
Pain in my face,
How can I pretend I’m fine,
Distorted vision,
When I get up to stand,
I’m sure I’ll have some kind of collision,
Dysarthria,
Gives me the fear of speaking,
Will I be laughed at again,
My anxiety is peaking,
I’m allowed to feel down,
I’m allowed to curl up and cry,
I’m allowed to scream,
I’m allowed to say how I feel and not lie,
If you can’t relate to this,
You’re one of the lucky ones,
I’ll go to sleep,
And wake up tomorrow,
Ready to carry on once more,
The warmth and colour surrounding me,
Is worth fighting for,
I’ve always wondered,
Why did this choose me,
I guess I’m just one in four hundred,