Troublesome Lungs

By Diana Manzanes

Published 3:32 PM EST, Tues April 6, 2021

This troublesome condition stabs my chest

As I am left to partake in no more

Than minimal gasps of air, that are so pressed

They savagely leave me on the floor.

Oh how I adore the youths that run free

With no knives jutted at their lungs.

Utter glee I have for the chance to flee

And be careless like those that are among.

But before then, I must suffer this wait,

For I am surrounded by private eyes.

A cost I must bear to open this gate

That has hindered me from getting the prize.

So long my troublesome lungs I dearly 

Hope, A path I see so very clearly.

Diana Manzanes, Youth Medical Journal 2021