50% Chance of Rain

Everyone wants to make it better, soothe and talk it away,
but since his diagnosis every day is a rainy day.
And sometimes rain is beautiful and sometimes it causes a flood,
blood may be thicker than water, but what's running through my blood?

A life lived in black and white is suddenly monochrome gray,
and even torrential rains can't wash the fears away.
Balancing on a tightrope, feet still on the ground
and when I rage and scream and cry I hardly make a sound.

It's a roll of the dice when the odds are fifty percent,
the dice are all loaded, and my money is spent.
Is it half empty, is it half full, this glass I hold in my hands.
I will watch my hands for tremors and pray the ground isn't quicksand.
 
 

Meghan McFadden
April 28,2001
Written one week after finding out 
about being at risk forHD

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