Rate this poem:5.0 / 2 votes
The Green Ribbon
Ashley Smith Williams 1985 (NC)
It doesn’t make an announcement.
It creeps around undetected and makes your body its endowment.
It can shut you down for weeks.
It can steal your joy, your memory and then you’re frozen until it peaks.
It can make you think you’re dead.
It cripples your body and crosses the blood-brain barrier in your head.
It makes you a medical punch line.
It tricks the labs and doctors into telling you you’re “just fine.”
But not the kind a nap can cure.
No amount of sleep or rest can combat what your body will endure.
It can sort of feel like mourning.
Like the death of someone close to you when they die without a warning.
It can ruin your whole life.
It can make you wish your days away and keep you up all night.
It can wreak havoc on every system.
It will slowly start to tear you down and make you a helpless victim.
It’s a scandal.
Some say it’s biological warfare.
But somewhere balls were dropped and now we’re paying for this nightmare.
It can make you think you’re crazy.
Friends will call you a drag and your family will call you lazy.
It’s like everyday you have the flu.
But soup and fluids and Advil won’t touch the pain this puts you through.
Most days you’ll just exist.
You’ll research all the herbs, protocols and pray for a literate specialist.
You think that something is finally working.
You’ll start to feel amazing and then your body goes into herxing.
It’s like the song that never ends.
It might disappear for some time but it always comes back again.
About this poem
This lyric poem is about the everyday struggles of someone with Lyme disease.
Written on March 07, 2023
Submitted by Ashvs4285 on March 13, 2023
Modified by Ashvs4285 on March 14, 2023
- 1:42 min read
- 26 Views
|Closest metre||Iambic pentameter|
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
"The Green Ribbon" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 29 May 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/154043/the-green-ribbon>.
Discuss the poem "The Green Ribbon" with the community...
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
You need to be logged in to favorite.