Oct 2018
I hear them whisper just outside my door.
They say I am not likely to last another day.
I know this all too well. My fate, I have accepted.
Yet I cannot keep myself from hoping, wishing, praying
As I lay here in my bed looking out my window.
They say I am not likely to last another day.
I know this all too well. My fate, I have accepted.
Yet I cannot keep myself from hoping, wishing, praying
As I lay here in my bed looking out my window.
When I wrote this, I was really sick and it seemed like I would never get better and I often find myself just looking out my window.
(19/F)
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