I lost my legs in the Persian Gulf War.
For years I didn't want to live anymore.
People looked at me with pity and that really irritated me.
I was wheelchair bound and I hated being an amputee.
I thought that no woman could love me and I was enraged.
But then I met somebody special and now we're engaged.
I prayed for death and as I prayed, I begged.
In addition to finding love, I have prosthetic legs.
I wallowed in misery because of the situation I was in.
But now my life is wonderful and it's worth living again.
(This is a fictional poem.)