by Nick Gisburne
They tell her she will never walk again,
Defeat the bleak appraisal of her fate,
But every word, the stroke of every pen,
Is crushed beneath the courage they create.
Determined to be free of what they said,
She lifts a middle finger to the lie.
Offended by their apathy, instead,
She finds another morning to defy.
Tenacious, more than many, more than most,
Dismissing every argument to stop,
When others fall before the winning post,
She crawls a mile beyond the point they drop.
They may be right. They say she’ll never walk.
But life is more than trauma, more than talk.
