Winter Illness
As the frigid wind passes, my spine shakes.
I don't know how much more
I could take it.
The shadows tormenting me, keeping me awake.
As I'm sadly ill,
all I can do
stays still.
Have I chosen
the wrong path?
Looking at other lads, oh, I'm so glad
that they are happy. Looking at their
blissful children.
But as I spend my life alone, with what you could hardly
call a home.
My life is coming to an end, people now don't
have to pretend.
I now lay in a death bed
losing my mind.
This is what you call insanity.
When you don't have
a sense of humanity.
As the frigid air
continues to strike
my lungs.
That cold breeze
running along
my nose.
Time is running out,
who knew?
Illness has this much power,
all it can do
is devour.
Caleb Escalante is a 12-year-old writer from California.