Tremor

Every time I take a turn I slip and fall
I get up and wonder how I’ve become the clumsy of all
It is as though I’ve stopped seeing the reality of who I am
I’ve become the someone; just a lousy clam
What remained of little sweetness that’s now turned bitter
This gentle mind is low and full of thoughtless litter
No No.. don’t pity me. Just hear out my rants; a tirade of distress
There is no one else but me that can make myself better!