My Disease


As I sit languid in my chair,
I ponder on how life was never fair,
The disease I hold is so rare,
I sit on the brink of life,
Seeing darkness and also light,
Can I tell what will happen next? I just might,
Death,
Or a second chance at life.
I hang on to a single rope,
What keeps me alive is only hope,
The things I live with I have to cope,
The rope that holds me is my life,
My disease portrays the cutting knife,
Life will give me death,
Or a second chance at life.

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