Anabelle's Story Poem by Aleysha MacIntosh

When I turned five, I would fight to be alive.
I just turned nine, and my life was on the line.
I coughed myself to sleep, I dreamed of cold winter sleet,
I woke up later that night and saw a white bright light.
I put up a great fight and it turned out to be right,
If I followed that bright light I wouldn’t be here tonight.

I should be in heaven, instead I turned eleven,
And now when I get sick I learned never to quit!