I lay and stare up at the ceiling,
waiting with fear...
waiting with anger and confusion unappealing.
I seek comfort,
the comfort of home....
home is where I lay my head, it's my port.
Just twelve months ago the sun made me smile,
even a warm soaking rain I would crack a small grin...
the grin I took for granted like most for a while.
Everyday has now become a challenge,
the never ending hill....
the hill that breaks you of your spirit and breaks you of your will.
Dignity and grace are words that crowd my thoughts,
I'd like to keep my chin up and hide my tears from most...
slip away the man...a man that all will boast.