Arthritis The Silent Ache

Arthritis The Silent Ache

The weight of days bears down on me,

each step a whisper, each bend a plea.

My knees protest, my feet despair,

a fire of pain I’m forced to bear.

Mornings start with silent cries,

as swollen joints refuse to rise.

The world moves fast—I move so slow,

trapped inside this aching woe.

There is no peace, no soft relief,

just endless nights of gnawing grief.

Pain is the breath my body keeps,

it haunts my days, it wrecks my sleep.

I cry for what I used to be,

for all the ground now lost to me.

I long to walk,

I long to go out side and run.

And as I sit in quiet defeat,

pain curls its fingers ’round my feet.

No mercy comes, no rest, no grace,

just one more day that’s hard to face.