Hit By Illness
Illness, like a stealthy thief,
snuck up on me, knocked me flat,
and ransacked my interior,
Taking things I didn’t know
were missing until I
got back up again.
Gone was the mask
of illusion that shielded
me from my mortality.
Bare were the walls
that kept sorrow
hidden for years.
Robbed of certainty
and confidence in
my own capabilities,
I stood vulnerable
in the uncluttered space
of my life -
and found poetry.
Copyright © Krista Kurth | Year Posted 2009
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