It would be so aweful

Poem about losing the ability to move. I got the idea for it after watching "The theorie of everything" about the life of Stephen Hawking

It would be so aweful

to lose the thing you most needed

but to keep the thing you most wanted

doesn't matter how hard you've pleaded

to feel cursed, to feel haunted.

To lose the capacity to move

but to keep the ability to think

how hard would it be to prove

while your muscles sit there to shrink

That's how Stepen Hawking must feel

he might still not believe this to be real

to be cursed by such a disease

telling your body, but not your brain, to rest in peace

Author's Note

What do you think? How can I improve?