For those who don’t have it
Health is not our friend
It isn’t even an enemy
More like an estranged relative
Judgemental and unkind
Judging us on some standard
That we can’t fulfill
Making us feel small
Tricking us into believing
That everyone else is fine
We’re the painful exception
A sore thumb
In a world of thriving fingers.
Elizebeth Turnquist 