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I'm so fed up of this constant pain,
It makes me feel depressed,
People don't see my daily struggles,
Like getting up, washed and dressed.

I feel so tired all the time,
My energetic days have gone,
Sometimes it feels like my aches and pains,
Mean my illnesses have won.

I struggle to tie my shoes,
I struggle to carry my bags,
I even feel bad asking for help,
Through fear of feeling like a nag.

Some people say I'm doing great,
As they offer me their praise,
Which I am grateful for I guess,
But they don't see me on bad days.

Other people can be cruel,
They laugh, they judge they stare,
If only they knew my daily battles,
Maybe then they'd care!

Vicki Wroe, 24 (c)

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