Who do you see?

You see a smiling woman dressed well and hair brushed.

I see a broken soul, every day a struggle, I’m crushed.

You see a benefits scrounger. ‘I bet she could work on a till’.

I see a desperate life ahead, how will we pay the gas bill?

You see me shuffling in the post office and stare.

I see myself in your eyes and the shame is hard to bear.

You see me in a car in a disabled bay and judge me .

I see disbelief in your face. My life is not for free.

PIP did not see me at all, copy and paste is their line .

Universal Credit saw me eventually after some time .

My family hide from the progressing symptoms I suffer.

I cannot hide, for me there is no buffer.

They see me, but not me now, me then .

I see the ugly truth, no hiding, the power of the pen.

Employers saw an easy mark, ‘lets get rid’.

I saw very little in kindness, and ready to blow the lid.

You see me holding up the queue at the tills.

I see a slow, sad person, never expected to be so ill.

My husband sees me at my worst.

I see him and my heart is fit to burst.

You see nothing, with your lack of levity .

I see Parkinsons disease and poverty.