She is gone.
Words leapt onto the page.
Shocked by the admission.
She sits still in the dark.
She is gone.
Now it is written.
She is aware.
She is gone.
Well, who is she now?
Who does she want to be?
Who feeds her soul?
A new girl is here.
She is both very young
And very old.
Chronic Disease.
Can get her down.
Champion girl,
Comes in twirls around.
That’s not all you are
She sings with a smile.
New evolution,
Filling the soul.
Deciding, once again,
Who she will be.
The new girl,
Is creative.
She longs to sing.
The new girl
Is very young
She still doesn’t understand.
The disease in her body.
Controls her body, her mind.
Let’s go get ice cream.
Where everything is grand.
She is grieving
With each poem,
She writes
quickly now.
She loved her old self.
She loved her old life.
She is learning, attempting to accept.
The facts facing her.
The new girl is dancing,
With a desire to share.
All she is learning.
She really does care.
The new girl was born,
To bring a beacon of light.
Leading the way.
Helping many.
Come in from the night.
New girl she ponders.
How can this be?
How can she lead,
When she is unsure.
Answers will come
The pen flows with words.
One moment,
One day.
She will take it all in.
Share the knowledge that’s given.
Use skills from before.
The new girl will inspire.
And find so much more.
Still talking.
The new girl wonders,
When will this end?
With that great question.
The last sentence appears.
She puts down her pen.
Inside Parkinson's 