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Poetry from within

Itís Whatís Inside That Counts

Post operation, visiting time

Here they come, eyes fixed upon the floor

Itís as if they no longer recognise

Who I am anymore

Conversation is somewhat strained

As they do not meet my eye

When I question them, what is wrong?

They do not tell me why

When they leave, I look for a mirror

So I can see what they can see

There before me, as stranger

Is reflected back at me

But waitÖ Iím still me!

How can they be so shallow?

When they turn away, or stare

Why canít they see that Iím still me?

Theyíre not being very fair

If I can accept how Iíll look from now on

Why on earth canít they?

But if how I look offends them now

Then they should stay away!

All they see is the physical

Not whatís underneath

To them Iíve changed, Iím no me

Well, that is their belief

But waitÖ Theyíre not all like that!

Iím jumping to conclusions

Tarring all instead of some

The ones I love and care about

Donít see what has become

They are the ones that matter to me

They look beyond what others see

It doesnít matter to them how I look

To them Iím the same old me

I may look different, but they donít see

They do not have any doubts

For they know, what matters most

Is whatís inside that counts!

Michaela Turner