The Disease

Parker Greason, Writer

I am sick. 

I am coughing words that people avoid. 

They cover up their mouths and they run away. 

They are afraid to get sick. 

Afraid to expose themselves to reality. 

Some say my illness is contagious.

That is true. 

My disease spreads as rapid as wildfire. 


I have been sick before, 

Perhaps never like this. 

My throat burns of flames 

Bursting deep red and orange, 

And my shoulders ache from 

The heavy weight of my head 

As I can hear their pounding fists 

Screaming words of freedom. 


Yes, my sickness is contagious,

But those who get sick are the strongest.

They are the ones who will grow up and change the world.