in my face or in my eyes?
Do you believe that this is real
or feel I'm living behind a lie?
When I cry do you hear?
. . . do you listen when I talk?
Do you understand my fear?
. . . do you listen when I talk?
Do you understand my fear?
. . . or am I just someone to mock?
Does anyone out there even know
what each day I face could be?
I can't stay but I don't go
sometimes it's hell just being me.
So I walk away head held high
back held straight and strong.
It's the way that I get by
lasting only as the day is long.
So here we go
another day
I don't know
what's left to say . . .
My good friend, Tracy, wrote this poem. She is a strong, accomplished and beautiful woman with a delightful sense of humor. Tracy loves gardening, and her wonderful dane puppy, Jagger, and she is enthusiastic about life. I treasure her friendship more than she will ever know! Tracy has had fibromyalgia for 18 years.
My good friend, Tracy, wrote this poem. She is a strong, accomplished and beautiful woman with a delightful sense of humor. Tracy loves gardening, and her wonderful dane puppy, Jagger, and she is enthusiastic about life. I treasure her friendship more than she will ever know! Tracy has had fibromyalgia for 18 years.
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