Her mind is like a puzzle left unspoken.
Fifty as a child. A hundred as a tween.
Two hundred as an adult, it seems now to be!
Her pain I can feel, anchors my heart to hers.
Wash, rinse, repeat...the same old song we sing.
Yet her coy smile pushes my patience to do its thing.
Though her mind is a haze,
Her voice is now loud, her spirit ablaze.
A fighter, a warrior, one day at a time.
Her strength I'd love to share, with all sometime!
Puzzle pieces, scattered and broken,
But her spirit remains forever outspoken.
Her will to push on, her strength to fight,
A beacon of hope in the darkest of night.
-Brandalyn Wenzel
