Asthma
It’s the air I breathe that makes me motionless
Gasp, wheeze, slow down,
It’s springtime again
Pollen, mites, cold air
Here we are again.
Narrow passages don’t let me breathe and
Swollen tubes prevent the air going through
A wave of cold air arises the tiniest little hairs on my back
And I say to myself “Don’t panic”; just make your own way back.
I feel scared and tired, but I know that as soon as I pass the gates,
On the other side of the big red door, there would lie my salvation.
Tiny steps, racing heart, the bloody walkway never seemed so grand,
Water cascades in front of my eyes diminish my vision
Finally I can see, my companion waiting for me,
That little thing would give me my life back; it would make me free
Puff, hold, inhale
Puff, hold, inhale
Oh how I would love to live in exhale
I can breathe, slowly I can breathe
Take it easy, I say, take in the breeze
I wish I could fly, I wish I was a free bird; happy and free, flying away
I wish I could venture the high and low tides of this tormentuous sea that is my life
I wish I could fly
I wish someone would give me a can of Red Bull
Or
I wish I could fly
I know I can do it with Ventolin (inhaler)
A very accurate description of an asthma attack. I being a sufferer of asthma can relate to it about 90 percent. Keep it up and bring out some more of your poetry!