Why am I here
by Luiggie
As I sit here typing on these keys,
I'm thinking about you out there with this insane disease,
which no one seems to understand, care about or even heard of in detail,
and it makes me mad as hell, but to no avail.
I'm not angry because I have this thing called sarc,
It's just that my life is now all out of whack.
I take my meds, so keep on reading,
as these darn preds. just keeps me eating.
I'm not complaining don't get me wrong,
but I can't take this pain inside my lung.
As you all know I'm not getting any younger,
But I can't take this sarc any longer.
This poem to you may seem a bit odd,
and maybe even won't make much sense,
but my joy for being alive is intense,
because I have been blessed by the one called GOD .
CHALLENGED
Sent in by Allison
Some say I am disabled,
But you know that isn't true.
I simply have a challenge
A little different from you.
My slight inconvenience, has taught me
Things they could not know.
Each obstacle is a victory,
Enabling me to grow.
I'm not really any different,
I cry, I laugh, I snore.
I don't want to be treated
As if I'm not a person anymore.
Out of good intentions,
People are afraid to let me try.
But sometimes I have to fall,
And sometimes I need to cry.
God gives me strength and dignity,
And the courage to be all I can be.
For He doesn't see me as disabled,
He just sees me as me.
By: Leslie W. Ortega
Two Large Pots
Author Unknown
Posted By: Toribecca (aka Monique)
A water bearer had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole, which
he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the
other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.
At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot
arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with
the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house.
Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for
which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own
imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of
what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to
the water bearer one day by the stream. I am ashamed of myself, and I want
to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because
this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your
house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't
get full value from your efforts," the pot said.
The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on
your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I
have always known about your flaw, and I planted flower seeds on your side
of the path, every day while we walk back, you've watered them. For two
years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the
table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this
beauty to grace the house."
Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. It's
the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very
interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what
they are, and look for the good in them.
THANK YOU, MY CRACKPOT FRIENDS
The Dance
by neener
I went to a wedding and it was so grand!
And then to the dance with a real live band.
Dance, dance, dance, it's what I used to do.
I'd dance every dance, from 8 until 2.
Then came my sarcoid into my lungs, so no air.
Now out on the dance floor I do not dare.
I'd just get started and then begin to huff & puff.
Before the song begins I've had quite enough.
There is something in each one of our lives,
that the dreaded disease has caused the demise.
Now let's not get depressed and filled with gloom.
Let's sweep out those negatives, with a positive broom.
Just quit your complaining and be of good cheer
We've made it through life for one more year.
Go out to movies or find things we CAN do.
For this alone will help us through.
Pleasure is a very important thing in life.
Without this pleasure life is pure strife.
Don't look at what you cannot do, but begin to see
Even with sarcoid we can be limited, but happy, and free.
We still have each day we wake up and open the door
and then decide if we will make it happy, or a day to deplore.
