A poem by somebody else

I laugh and joke about the wig that I wear,

Friends don't hear me curse or swear.

I just shout inside when I see myself in the glass,

I’m not me anymore, not that bonny young lass.

My alopecia began after the birth of my daughter.

I couldn’t blame her, or maybe I ought to!!

I love her smile and the giggles we share,

I’d rather have her than a headful of hair!

I always appear cheery, but no-one knows how I feel

I wonder sometimes is this really real?

The thing with alopecia is the knowledge I lack

About whether my curls will ever come back

You lose your identity, feel like a freak.

Your hair becomes thinner week after week.

I’m totally bald now, my wig covers the skin,

But I look like a man and am crying within.

I know that I must just get on with my life,

I’m loved as a daughter, mum, friend and wife.

As I play with my son and my new little girl

I’ll be waiting and wishing I will get my first curl.