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.
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Comments about this poem (The Wheelchair Spins like Life by Edwin Cordero )
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