So I was digging through some old notebooks that my parents had kept and then brought to my new apartment, and I found these two beauties. Bear in mind I was in the middle of puberty, at the peak of awkwardness…

The children smile,

They don’t discriminate,

Very few decide,

To gawp and gape.

I’m not so different,

As you’d like to think,

If I may be blunt,

I’m not thick.

Please don’t stare,

What if I stared at you?

I’m in a wheelchair,

Not an animal at the zoo.

I’d like to say,

That life is fine,

I’m free of pain,

But that’s a lie.

I’m not gonna mope,

Though I’d love to cry,

Is there any hope?

Will M.E say goodbye?

Please don’t stare,

What if I stared at you?

I’m in a wheelchair,

Not an animal at the zoo.

The children smile,

They don’t discriminate,

Very few decide,

To gawp and gape.

Complete with badly drawn wheelchair:

A couple of months after writing that first one, I wrote this:

A giant hoover came out of the sky,

And sucked all my energy away,

Then came the lead weights tied to my limbs,

I have to pull them night and day.

I lie awake in the night to find my sleep stolen,

Right from under my nose by a robber,

Unrefreshed, unhappy, and unrested,

Why should I even bother?

It hasn’t got better, it hasn’t got worse,

At least I know where I’m at,

I feel so small, so insignificant,

In the wheelchair in which I’m sat.

But at least I’m sure of two things in life,

Two things it has taught me so well,

I know for sure who my true friends are,

And not to take them for granted, even if I’m unwell.

Let’s just say that I think my writing skills have improved since then…