In her bedroom she sits
Red knit cap upon her head
Windows serve no satisfaction
To her wish to play outside
Sickness envelops her bones
Her venom she can't see past
Seeking scabbed knees and mud on her shoes
Yet she sees tubes
Tufts of hair misplaced
Blonde curls to the ground
Holding on to hope
With a white flag in her other hand
This was written a little while ago about my best childhood friend who had cancer when we were seven. Thankfully, she survived and has been in remission for quite some time. Her journey through the chemotherapy still inspires me today and she means the world to me.