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The Wolf I Fight by Jennifer Gryka-Dahlgren

I try to run

when the wolf comes to call

I fight to ignore it,

This disease I can't stall.

It knocks me down

and puts me in bed.

I hurt all over

and have fog in my head.

At times I can't bear it,

or so I think.

Then one day I glimpse life

from the depths that I sink.

That one day becomes two,

and two are a week.

Soon the rash is gone

that I had on my cheek.

The weakness subsides,

and I can walk again.

To not enjoy this

would be a great sin.

I have had remissions,

I'm the lucky one.

Looking forward to another ,

when this flare is done.

I may never feel normal,

but I pretend on good days

To be a healthy person

I can see through the haze!

It gives me compassion,

this wolf that I fight.

There are many who suffer.

It just doesn't seem right.

I have made some great friends.

Some never feel good.

I'd share my "fit" days,

If only I could.

I must go on fighting.

Don't let the wolf succeed.

And hope for a cure,

I will beat this , indeed!!

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