In a chair I roll, a twist in the plot, My body’s the orchestra, but my hands forgot. Multiple Sclerosis, a thief in the night, Took a bit of my strength, but never my fight. I once could juggle or give a high five, Now I aim not to topple when bees take a dive. My fingers, they dance to a tune of their own, Typing out texts, they just moan and they groan. Pain is a constant, an unwelcome guest, It parties too hard, gives me no rest. Yet amidst all this chaos, I've found a strange truth, Joy in the madness, eternal youth. My time might be short, the clock ticks too fast, But I’m grateful for now, for the present, the past. For sunsets and laughter, for tears that have dried, For the moments of silence, for the bumpy ride. So here in my wheelchair, I spin and I twirl, A reminder that life’s more than just a mere whirl. Though my hands may not work, my spirit takes flight, In a world that’s not easy, I still find delight. So let’s raise our cups, to the battles unseen, To the warriors in wheelchairs, and everywhere in between. Our journey's unique, a peculiar blend, Grateful for everything, right to the end.