creditA Poem by Emily B
Previous Version This is a previous version of credit. I am sick to death of words like symptom and side effect. Tired of being concerned with diagnosis and prognosis. I am lost in a hazy maze of terminology that doesn’t comfort and doesn’t cure. Bound by patterns of exercise and medication that only bring me a little closer to better day. I am not quite ready to embrace the recommended lifestyle changes, but I am still the woman my mother made. © 2010 Emily BFeatured Review
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Added on July 21, 2010Last Updated on July 21, 2010 AuthorEmily BRichmond, KYAboutto the Lost Boys I am no Wendy; but my voice brings you back to me. And you sit around my feet, anxious for a story or a kiss. Listening to my words spinning adventures, like so much g.. more..Writing
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