That was it,
my greatest fear,
bringing my greatest tear,
a old man unable to keep his hands still,
there is no cure, no pill,
to make it stop,
he stood there unable to stop the shaking,
unable to to be the one faking,
its getting worse and I can feel it,
I can see not being able to write a little bit,
and I am terrified.
My future standing in front of me,
like seeing an island when out to sea,
I know I will get there,
so I keep my hopes up and down I stare,
at the man who can't stop or grip a pen,
there is a now and always a then,
and my fate of being unable to do,
wishing to stop and feel new,
but I have to accept,
I'll be that old man too