Asthma
I fight this struggle every day.
I struggle to respire.
Like drawing air through a straw.
I'm always craving more.
I just never get quite enough.
I sit motionless, for conservation.
Afraid to expend my much needed energy,
energy needed to live.
My wheezing is strained.
Daily, I spar with my disease.
One day, I'm afraid
It may win.
Copyright © Linda Smith | Year Posted 2007
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