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.