For Sweet Kaylee, with love

For Sweet Kaylee and the Progeria Research Foundation

Ask her why she's different

She says I don't have hair

Ask her why she's crying

She says I don't have hair

Tell her she's beautiful

She says I'll get my wig

Then I'll be beautiful

Then it'll be better

She's dancing

The clouds drift apart

Because she scares them

Darkness doesn't exist around her

It has to turn its back and run

Because it cannot touch her face

She's dancing

On a chair in the pediatric waiting room

Ask her why she's there

To get my medicine

Ask her why she needs medicine

Because I have progeria

Ask her what is progeria

I don't have hair

It makes her angry

But she smiles

And roses fall from the sky

She's dying

Every day her muscles get colder

Her heart strains to beat

She may not have seven years

She may not have seven days

Before her soul cartwheels into the sky

But it's the hand that pushes up glasses

Roams to her forehead

That brings the frown

Ask what's wrong

I don't have hair

I'm tired

As she crawls into your arms

You pray that it's not the last time she closes her eyes

She is loved

So much

All over the world

By people she's never met

Because she's beautiful

She powers the sunshine

With her laughter

We are all so afraid of what will happen

When she can't anymore

She's dancing

In her dream

Butterflies play to the wind

Coloring the sky white yellow

She stirs with a smile

Ask what she's dreaming

She says I have hair

You hope that she has time to dream

And she hopes that she has time for it to come true.

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I've been wanting to do a poem like this for a while. The Progeria Research Foundation helps children and their families cope with rapid aging disease. This cause is very close to my heart. Look up the Progeria research foundation at progeriaresearch.org or look for Sweet Kaylee on facebook.