A restricted life
Each inch takes energy from my arms,
from wrists to elbows, the forearms.
Each flick of the wrists backed strength,
only gets me an arms worth of length.
Each replay of my arms patterned moves,
make my knowledge and strength improve.
This new life I now must practice and live,
extra pain and agony each day does give.
Many times, I am stopped and distortedly sad,
remembering the walks and runs I’ve had,
the jumps, hops, skips and so much more.
My life changed, different then before.
A ramp installed and automatic doors,
lowered cupboards and the drawers.
Lifting devices to get into my bed,
each morning the day I dread.
Each inch takes energy to live,
this life to no one I would give.
It takes a strong determined mind,
in wheelchairs you see all kinds.
Living in their own private dismay,
living a restricted life each day.