Sick.
Weak,
barely able to stand
on my own two feet.
Declining,
feeling worse and worse
as the days pass on.
Scared,
of any more pain
or any more testing.
Alone,
everyone worries far too much
and they don't even understand.
Prepared,
for any news they give me
good or bad alike.
Hopeful,
that maybe
things aren't quite as bad as they seem.
Comforted,
by all of those
who really care.
Waiting,
for all of this sickness
to finally be over with.
Copyright © Natalie Jones | Year Posted 2009
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