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Monday, October 8, 2012

It's Just a Day . . .

Do you see the pain I feel
                  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?
                   . . . 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.
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