The Wheelchair Spins like Life
These wheels spin
To stares engulfing grins.
No one wants this thing;
The blatant rush drives patience thin.
She's a child, a baby—not worth discriminating.
However, her similarity to adults is irritating
Everyone and everything.
I sink to think of all that could have been:
Our family achieving the American Dream.
It's turned to regret, repenting all those things
Which blurred right and wrong to this brink.
It's all ready gone to nothing.
Comments about this poem (The Wheelchair Spins like Life by Edwin Cordero )
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