HOW FRAGILE WE ARE

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Sometimes, I don’t want to be me

Sometimes, we don’t like being us

Sometimes, we don’t like ‘being’ at all

Sometimes I wish i could disappear

 

I have little to stay ‘here’ for

No family that ever visits us

Just our carers for company three times a day

Grand total of two and a half hours

 

Our closest friends are here at WordPress

Most of us known by anonymous avatars

Who we pour our hearts out to

And our souls bleed onto the paper

 

Yet those very friendships

And our hearts’ outpourings

Could be snuffed out like candles

By one press of a key

 

How fragile we are.

Broken-Heart-11

Author: Ellie Thompson

Writing my memoirs, musings, a little fiction and a lot of poetry as a way of exploring and making the most of my life ... ... Having had a break from writing my blog for more than three years, I decided to return to write my memoirs, some day-to-day observations, views and feelings. My passion is non-fiction poetry. I have a disability and use an electric powerchair called Alfie and let nothing get in the way of living life to the full. I believe that you can never do a kindness too soon and should give credit where credit is due. A smile or a kind word could make the difference between a good or bad day for a person - we never know what's going on for another soul. Those little things, perhaps, practised daily like a mantra, could mean so much to someone else. Thank you for visiting my blog and reading a little more about me. Please, make yourself at home here. You are very welcome. Ellie x 😊

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