The raw grief of diagnosis slowly has ebbed away,
but living on, it visits from time to time, but never to stay.
But strangely there is joy that’s hard to explain.
not joy in trouble walking, not joy in aches and pains,
not joy in insomnia, I try not to complain
But there is joy in working hard despite my fears
There is joy in achieving goals though it takes years
There is joy in comforting others and in empathy
There is joy in sense of purpose and pure clarity
There is joy in fighting for others who don’t know how.
There is joy in others helping, I’m not alone now
Today whatever raw emotions catch me unaware,
I know the best is joy and I willingly will share
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