What sets me apart?
That’s what I want to know.
What sets me apart?
On the inside, nothing goes.
I run and bike and play,
Just like any other kid.
Go to school all weekdays,
And sleep all night in bed.
But it all stops from the neck up,
From my chin up to the top.
For there is nothing, even right closeup,
Not any flouncy crop.
That’s all that sets me apart.
Just that one little thing.
Yet small children, when they see me, start.
They don’t realize that it stings.
Alopecia areata is not a bad affair
And I don’t want a cure.
But some people just don’t care
And make me feel like some dull ore.
Some people think I’m cancerous
And ask about my treatments.
But alopecia is quite harmless
And that sparks disagreements.
I think that people should be nice
And think not that we are bad.
For insults cause much thin ice
And compliments are better had.
The world seems to not realize
That we are rising stars.
They try not to idealize
The novel and the bizarre.
But we are not too different, you see,
Apart from strands of hair.
Since underneath we can agree
We are all uniform there.
