We often see her,
In her wheelchair,
Sailing gently to a table,
Her coffee brought to her.
And there she sits
A smile on her face,
Not a care in the world.
She picks up her coffee cup
Has a sip of the drink,
Puts the cup back down.
From her bag she gets her ‘phone,
Types a message,
As many do,
We cannot live without our ‘phones.
But could we live like her?
Her smile as wide as ever,
With her ‘phone,
With her coffee,
Without her legs,
Without her arms,
Could we live like her?