Stephen William Hawking
He is weak, ill, lame.
He thinks: ‘I am lame.’
His shape is small, his weight is light.
He is slight.
He is HIP!
He sits, as his legs are weak - his steps halt.
He wheels in his seat.
Pills, pills, pills.
He hears, he will listen.
He has will.
He speaks / talks with a thing.
His smile is set.
To speak, he spells as he winks.
He has spent his time here thinking.
As the planets spin, he is in awe. He likes this.
He maps a plan.
He thinks this planet is waning - men taking it all the time.
It’s spent!
I wait, I wait.
When?! When will I see the planets?
Thinking - the planets spin, makes me smile.
I am pleasant as I wait.
I hate the mean.
At times as he is shaking, he thinks: Please help me. Please kill me.
As a man, I hate them waiting (on), taking me.
I am the least; I will win - I mean it.
He thinks, when I am past, all will think I was a weak man.
His wish is this: Let’s make planet plans!
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on Tuesday, August 25th, 2009 at 7:20 pm and is filed under Names, Science.
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