Tag Archives: feelings

Prader Willi Blues

12 Mar

My mum was sympathetic to my clumsy manner,
She’d ignore the tripping over and my rambling stammer.
My Father was helpful and would often say,
‘It’s not your fault you have a speech…….delay’.

I’d trip over steps and always drop my toys,
I knew I was different from the other boys.
My excessive weight gain that went not just to my hips,
Not complimented by my almond shaped eyes and thin, down-turned lips.

As I got older and other boys grew taller,
Delayed puberty meant that I remained shorter.
Depressingly obese and with sparse pubic hair,
And a high narrow forehead, life was not fair.

I had a sleeping disorder and excess fat,
A lack of complete sexual development which meant that,
I was often angry, irritable and vexed
As I couldn’t romance the opposite sex.

I have learning disabilities and borderline intellectual functioning,
Diabetes Mellitus, small hands and feet and I’m always skin picking,
I love stuffing my face, to argue and to moan,
All caused solely by my Prader Willi Syndrome.

My stubby little fingers are full of hatred

I cry…

Then eat..

Then eat some more…

I hate my Prader Willi Syndrome,
I’m off to eat.

Who’s Your Mate?

4 Sep

Who’s your mate over there,
With the face like a mashed up pizza?
Would you be so kind to introduce me?
I’d like to know the inner her.


Her arms are like snakes,
All wiggly and loose; hanging down by her sides.
Look at her legs, bandy and rubbery.
It’s a surprise she can walk at all.


Her head, Jesus, her head.
Massive would be an understatement.
And her colossal hands like Frisbees.
They make me want to do jazz hands.


You know penguins, yeah?
Well her feet are like theirs.
Flip flap, flip flap. Walking like she’s soiled herself.
She’s like a mutated clown, bless her.


I look at her nose and I think of a parsnip,
But parsnips are quite tasty.
And is that a moustache I can see below it,
Sitting like a chilled out caterpillar?


When she smiles, which is rarely,
She gets funny lines around her pig-like eyes.
And which she cries, which is often,
She plays with her bacon-like ears to comfort herself.


Is your mate ok, because she doesn’t say much?
She just seems to stare into space.
Is your mate a bit weird? A bit of a nutter?
I quite like her, you know.


I spoke to your mate,
I took the time to get to know the inner her.
She may look like a freak,
But your mate, yeah: she’s alright really.

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