Posted in Poetry

Broke

You treat me different
With a limb broke  
Than when depression woke 
Because you see it?

I feel them all  
Each and every one 
The seen and not 
Weighing a tonne 

I walk, carrying the entire load
Weighted steps, gasps of breath 
More of a plod than strode 
I crawl through life, so … slow

Crutches add to my stress
Occupying my arms
A useful aid, nonetheless 
But for walking, no contest

I want my own TWO legs
I will trade you anything
Praying, hoping, and begs
Just to be able to walk free

I miss having my dignity
Showering without any aid
Reaching the nitty gritty
Is that to much to ask?

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Author:

I was 46 years old when I begun this blog, female and married with a house full of cats (7). My past is littered with the impact of events that happened when I was a teen. Two loves of my life have been nursing and studying. I just completed my Master of Arts: Media Studies endorsement. My blog will be about the things I think about, that might be better served being written rather than squirreled away in my mind festering. It is the meanderings of my mind as I seek to define myself and my world.

2 thoughts on “Broke

  1. thank you so much for sharing this… you are very talented; and your words spoke so deeply to my soul… i wish i could find the courage to share my art as you… i really admire your work and strength to share… i hope you have a wonderful day! … thank you again for sharing such a moving piece…

    Liked by 1 person

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