The day’s sadness settles in my lungs, and I can’t breathe.
I feel my stomach Lerch and I begin to Heave
The air around me seems to dissipate
I struggle hard to breathe, but it’s too late
The inhaler stays off the spasms of my attack
I lost track of time wrapped in thoughts I
got off track
I struggle hard to keep my pathway straight
Sometimes I have to run and change my gait
The simple things in life, like the air
often taken for granted with no care
It’s only when our source runs out
we want to scream and shout about
Days of activity are few and in between
Take advantage of every young day seen
No more Swinging from branches
in a giant oak tree
taking in nature from a rocking chair
That’s where you’ll find me
