If I get up in the morning,

and struggle to justify my continuous existence.

After one hour, the struggle is postponed till tomorrow morning.

Animation may even set in , on a good day.


Should the struggle last beyond noon,

the cavalry is called for , in my mental room.

On the ground floor, a young man lives in a chair of wheels,

his sole companion, a small dog called Winston.


Jose told us his story, in a matter of fact way,

it has never left us to this very day.

Jose was born with Spina Bifida, hence the chair.

His mother abandoned him, went her own way.


Twenty years in a Monastery, the Monks gave him refuge, a home.

His independent spirit saw him strike out on his own.

I would love to tell a lie, say Jose is happy with his lot,

but, he is probably not.


If I get up in the morning,

and struggle to justify my continuous existence.

With chills, pills, aches and bills, sorry for myself , up to my Gills,

Jose and Winston, I retrieve from my mental room, go to the window,

scan the street, there they go, I'm standing on my feet., I'm standing on my feet.


   By Holly Barrett