Six Years of Lyme

By Morgan Pope

When I was about six,
My mom told me that she was going to change ,
And I cried because didn't know what she meant.
But she told me it was good.
She was sick and she wanted to get better.

When I was seven,
We found out that it was somewhat serious
And that it wouldn't be an easy recovery
But we still kept hope

When I was ten,
The doctors claimed it was something different
And we believed them.
Because they were, well, Doctors.

When I was eleven,
We found out they were wrong,
And that it was much more serious than we thought
Something the doctors didn't know about.
They couldn't help us anymore.

When I was thirteen,
My mom looked to see if there was anyone like her
To see if they knew how she could get better.
And she did.

When I was fourteen,
The people that she found
Were rude,
And didn't allow us a shred of hope

It wasn't a healthy environment,
So it didn't work for us.
She has not been cured.


Maybe when I am fifteen
She will be.

Comment Stream

2 years ago

I love the title and everything wow

2 years ago

oh yas slay morgan 😏

2 years ago

This is a wonderful poem, I love it