Ulcerative Colitis and Stoma poetry

 

There was a pain inside me, it couldn’t be cured or healed

It ate away at the person I was, taking my time and my energy

It pulled me into the smallest room in the house and held me prisoner

The pills to fix were a poison, they give with one hand but take with the other

When even the soldiers no longer fight for you

The time comes, they will take the pain away

Remove the offending item, halt the bleeding, stop the war

My life changed at the hands of another

Suddenly there is light, there is a glimmer of joy

a feeling warms slowly, a hesitant smile plays on my lips

the battle is over, though there is still work that needs to be done

the person I thought had gone, was only hiding

She returns.

 

Sam Cleasby

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