My Image

I gaze into the mirror
then touch my face to feel
It�s only a reflection.
That person isn�t real.

I don�t look like that
that sad head with no control
Someone needs to hold her,
To say, �I love you so�

I used to be so pretty.
with a smile ready for all.
Dystonia has stolen it
and left a furrowed brow.

I search to find the real me,
the one I used to be.
The tears stream down my face
from a never ending sea.





By: Kathie Stehr
August 31.1999