Parkinson’s for me is just bad luck, you see,
It follows me wherever I do go.
When I walk off down the street, I trip up on my feet,
And at the very least, I stub my toe.
Then I shout out loud, to all the gathered crowd,
And no one even turns their head my way.
I try to disappear, turn red from ear to ear,
And hurry home without one more ‘Good day’.
Parkinson’s for me is just bad luck ,you see,
It follows me e’en then, when I have fun.
At Scrabble there are words, some which are absurd,
Low scoring too,when, finally, they’re done.
A game of cards is good, though comments can be rude,
When I forget, and play out of my turn.
Bad luck sticks to me, like shadows to a tree,
Now lower, at the setting of the sun.