My whole life is bound to the chair,
But I still sing and play a guitar.
I still say hello to people who pass by.
I still face each morning with hope.
My life may be bound to this chair,
But I don’t let the straps hold me back.
Powered by a 12-volt battery,
I throttle my movement with grace and dignity.
My chair has become a part of me like a protective brother, a loyal sister.
All that I own and care about is securely attached.
Even with my life stuck in neutral, head forever cocked, and a catheter bag spilling over,
I still find meaning.
I still have a reason to play.