She looks toward the sky as she sits there and prays,
For strength and for hope and for much better days.
“What shall I do, God? Please answer my prayers!”
She’s gotten too weak to march up the stairs.
No sleeping at night, no driving the car.
Her legs are too weak, she can’t walk too far.
There is no end in sight! She’s stuck in that chair.
And now her round scalp is shiny and bare.
She once tried a book, but couldn’t read much,
With no appetite, she can’t eat her lunch.
We’re sick of the sickness! It can’t last much longer.
All hoping for days that Gram will be stronger.
We love our Celeste and we show her we care,
But Grandma’s not Grandma without her brown hair.