I asked myself, “Why me?”Why must I suffer so very much?Why this sickness, this chain I drag,Why not death? Wouldn’t that be kinder? I cannot live like others do—To run, to laugh without this weight,To enjoy a meal, a walk, a breath,To cherish time with those I love. Each session drains my strength, my gold,This treatment—my reluctant lifeline.Yes, we are often called perwisyo,Burdens to the ones we love. And yet…Why not me? Did I not abuse this borrowed body?I drank, I feasted, I ignored—Each doctor’s word, each warning sign.I wasted chances, two and three,Until the door to healing shut. Too late to turn this ship around,Too late to save what…