The Specter

As I sit here fatigued, and with a specter of sadness,

I wonder as to how I find myself here.

I wonder as to the various threads that brought me here,

Here to this place sitting alone, tired,

The mind and body, both are tired.

As I sit here fatigued and with a specter of sadness,

I recall a time when I was alive, vivacious,

A time when I could walk circles around anyone,

When 100 steps seemed like nothing.

I wonder if any semblance of that person will ever reappear.

Yet, as I sit here fatigued, and with a specter of sadness,

I find peace in my soul, a peace with this specter of sadness,

Also the specter of what is fibromyalgia.

No, I may not be that person I was once,

But I can still be alive, create opportunity,

Opportunity to smile, even if only for a while.

As I sit here fatigued, and with a specter of sadness,

Much of my time alone,

I realize that it is up to me to find that person,

That person I once was.

So as I prepare to move to a new abode,

I remind myself that the only one,

The only one who can find that I once was,

Is me, and so I shall.