Our Verses

She is hungry today. Her skirts are swirling, blue green, frills of lace. Sometimes she appears angry and sometimes calm, always deceiving. She spots the boy, red jumper, blue shorts, running, running. But he can never escape her once she has decided. She increases her speed, watching watching. For a moment it seems as if he will break free. But she reaches out with her icy white fingers and captures him. Within seconds he is gone, no red against the blue green and white. The

All I can say is – “I will live another day stay away , Devil” I wonder if my funeral homily will be written just about MS: crippled fingers – eyes barely focus – impossible balance issues- can’ t type very well. Still, I ain’t dead yet because my psyche tells me, “I think; therefore, I exist.” I can scribble poetic words from a brain with black lesions and holes, struggle with my dark autoimmunity disease with damnable muscle wasting - slow - cognitive abilities. I wonder if

You hear my voice, You see me smile, You think it's not that bad. Inside I'm screaming, Inside I'm arguing, Inside I'm crying. But I won't show as I don't want you to worry. I may stumble, I may forget, Setting a time is setting regret. This is me A new me and It's not coz I'm going to the gym, It's not coz of a new year resolution. I have been forced into these changes, I smile to reassure you that I'm O K You hear my voice, You see my smile. Stefano Cimmino

Now that my words are written down on paper, black and white, someday you may decide that what I've written isn't right. Opinions aren't like words two can never be the same, but if your opinions are written down, they can be heard again. Even though nobody's talking, the words can still be read, so write them down and then we'll know exactly what you said. Fame part 2. K.MacDonald

This ones about a guinea pig and his name was clive, hed sit upon my shoulder when id go out for a drive. Id stroke him id brush him i even cleaned his poo (thats all part of pet ownership) youll have to do that too. One thing about clive he was always malting, I really didnt mind but my kids found it revolting. I loved him More, than you could have even guessed hed calm me down, when i was feeling stressed But One day i had, the most awful suprise clive had stopped mov

My life has changed From great to good Then from good to challenging The challenges became day to day Then hour to hour And minute to minute My challenges began to break me My days became a mystery Not knowing what may come The future became a question Every day was different not knowing What is next to come Day to day may be a mystery Yet I push on to enjoy life Life is good and within your hands So, make it good. Life and MS. Michael Russell.

Growing up life was an open canvas Each day was yours to create Tomorrow began new adventures Adventures after exciting adventures Your canvas changed as your thoughts changed Yet Life was an exciting ever-changing journey New experience after a new experience Life is good and ever changing Then today became another day after another day Life had changed for the better or the worse Yet life moves on day after day Life’s exciting adventures turned into another day As my abilit

I was diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis in December 2009, what did that mean then for me? I decided to try fitness, that worked for me, I decided to train to become a personal trainer and an instructor too, I was made redundant in June 2016, what did that mean then for me? I tried to work in the fitness industry, that didn't work then for me, I was Certified Visually Impaired in 2021, what did that mean then for me! I was registered blind in November 2024,

You took my strength, You took my balance, You took my confidence, And you take my vision when you want. You've created challenges, You've created regrets, You've created thoughts, That I can't forget. You took. stefano cimmino.

There was once a lad in a cap, He used to say poetry was crap, He then discovered words could explain pain in a verse, And that was the end of that. Lad in a cap. Robert Gillett

These are your thoughts Write your happy thoughts, Write your sad thoughts, Your thoughts, For you. The thought of the day, The thought of the week, Your thoughts of the world, Your thoughts for only you to see. Your Thoughts. Robert Gillett

I never set out to be a writer. I didn’t sit there dreaming of books or stages or strangers listening to my truth. I was just trying to survive. Trying to escape the chaos in my head, Put pain into something that made a bit more sense. At first, it was random thoughts, Written between random symptoms, Between different moods, Between moments I nearly gave up. It wasn’t polished. Wasn’t supposed to be poetic. It just needed to be real. And somehow… that mattered. People listen