By Ethan Hartle
My life has been brought to a halt
On behalf of a tiresome ailment.
Body and mind defend the assault
Though, I cannot help but fault
And wish that my condition was latent.
When describing myself I must now begin
With a myriad of dismal symptoms.
This description is said over again,
For awareness is low, to my chagrin
In spite of so many victims.
Close friends support with words and prayer
All of them grasping at a positive direction.
Looking from the outside in is not so rare
Since people find the need to compare;
I’m left alone with facts and my reflection.
My mind is more weary than it used to be
Though much about me is.
Exhaustion consumes beyond degree
My disease made me akin to an amputee.
My body feels foreign, like a prosthesis.
Every waking hour I’d rather be asleep
For my fatigue imparts much strain.
The weight of my intrinsic physique
Is much too great now that I’m weak.
Moving is a luxury I cannot obtain.
Alas, I’m here stuck in thought
Wondering about the inevitable.
Although my journey has been fraught
Now I think I have a shot
At being much more capable.
There are always things you wish to erase
No one experiences life without battles.
Soon I will have my saving grace,
I haven’t yet ascended life’s staircase,
I will break free from these shackles.
