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| LETTER TO EDITOR |
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| Ahead of print publication |
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Gnarled fingers and broken youth
Deeksha Elwadhi
Trust Psychiatrist, Central Locality Team, Barnet, Enfield and Haringey Mental Health NHS Trust, London, England
| Date of Submission | 27-Jun-2020 |
| Date of Acceptance | 13-Jul-2020 |
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Correspondence Address:
Deeksha Elwadhi,
Halliwick Centre, St. Ann's Hospital, London N15 3TH
England
 Source of Support: None, Conflict of Interest: None DOI: 10.4103/injr.injr_169_20
Standing on the edge of time,
An uneven precipice.
I try to walk tall,
But, my bones have just shrunk so small.
As much as I try to hold,
My hands feel hard as stone.
I miss the freedom of movements,
Feeling caged,
In my own body's rage.
As I wonder
Why do I fight against me,
The spirit captured,
Waiting to be set free,
As my own self dwindles and depletes.
I see myself pass through the stages of this malady,
My friend became my foe,
My gnarled fingers its trophy to show.
I try my hand at an unequal barter,
My soul a hostage lurking in the corner,
It stared, and mocked,
And it stalked me,
Things I could do,
Beings I could be,
Lives I could live,
It just makes me wonder.
But still I stand on the precipice,
My own immunity my only vice.
Still, I look forth for a day in future,
When all this will make sense.
When my immunity might just realize,
That I and it are friends.
Till then I pray with my gnarled fingers,
And this ray of hope lingers.
Financial support and sponsorship
Nil.
Conflicts of interest
There are no conflicts of interest.
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