I hate falling ill so often
I hate being alone in my den
When I am surrounded by friends,
I must a paint a picture penned
by me to disguise my pain.
In the end, it is all in vain
as their words but fall on my ears
and I feel detached and my fears
confuse my words and acts.
There are many facts
my pride hides from them.
I can hardly walk, there stems
my reluctance to catch a bus,
absolutely nothing else. Thus
its a simple reason, yet I feebly
blame my poor daddy.
I hate being a girl
sometimes. All's a whirl
of concern and you are so dependent.
I have my guilt to contend
with when my mom travels to pick
me up from so far and it pricks
my conscience that I was glad
she did anyway. She's clad
with the mantle of duty
and I'm her biggest cause for worry.
A few kind words do numb my distress
but the balm wears off when they digress
back into their own lives.
Yet out of the ashes of despair,
is born a new me. The fair
angel of righteousness
commands me when laziness
takes an upper hand. I strive
to give back to those who drive
toward me in care. My body and
mind become strong having grand
disappointments and disturbances.
I discover being alone is the biggest
distraction, with the largest
network at hand and a library
to boot, my thoughts turn contrary
In the end, I surrender to God,
in both sorrow and joy and applaud
the care and blessings I've earned
as well as the trials and learnt
that I love my life and All izz well!