Good Bye Italy?
I dreamed of travel today.
Or should I say I dared to dream.
Pain kept me in bed today.
Pain will never make a way.
Do the chronically ill travel to Italy?
Sweating, aching with pill popping insanity?
I want to ride the Gondolas.
Run my hand through the watery utopia.
How many would it take to lower this weak body into the boat?
Would they notice my heartbreak?
How many tries would it take for me to eat a decent meal?
The delightful smells of pasta, bread, pizza and seafood on every corner.
But nausea is how I feel.
Could I walk through historical churches and museums?
Would I make it to the Coliseum?
My pain will never make a way.