Sometimes words come into my mind. Most of the time I forget these far too quickly, but today they merged into a poem.
It is not right.
I could say it is not fair, but life never is.
I should be out in the sunshine,
sharing the wind and the light.
I should be flying down a lane on 2 wheels,
or running across the mountain,
or urging my pony up a bridleway.
I am not though and it is not right.
There are people living a half life that comes
from laziness and lack of spirit.
I live a half life because of my damaged body.
My brain and spirit are mostly bright,
but my body fails me daily.
A fog of depression and sadness threatens to cover me,
and I fight it.
My spirit is strong and I search for my place in this world.
I am not who I want to be - frustration is not a big enough word.
Tears flow too often.
I keep getting up.
I keep trying to smile.
I keep moving my body and accepting the pain.
It is not right though.