You may not see

You may not be able to see the cancer scars or the cuts written on my wrists, but i am dying.

You may not be able to see it in my speech or in my actions that commit, but i am dying.

You may not be able to see it in my eyes or in my attitude to wards life, but i am dying.

You may not be able to see it in my long brown hair or in my perfect shaped hands, but i am dying.

You may not be able to see it in my stomach or in my on going legs, but i am dying.

You may not be able to see it in my smile or my welcoming arms of comfort, but i am dying.