There was a time when as a small boy I ran and played like others,

Reading books was my everyday thing, I remember a child’s life.

Something was happening to me but I was scared and hoped It would fade,

A shaky hand turned Into a life that would become a hell not for any man.

Slowly as I age and young still I decay In my mind, my body does not function,

Control of my soul Is not mine as this horrible monster conquers what Is mine.

I do not realize that time goes by In the length of so many years as I’m dead but alive,

My existence Is known and seen by strangers and a mother but no, not me.

I’m alive on the Inside but they think I’ve gone far, far, away, I have something to say,

If what Is hell could be worse than where I am then I should not complain about my pain.

I want them to know that I am alive Inside, I am a person that has only died on the outside,

I am alive! I am alive!.

Keith Garrett