It's been quite some time now,
Five years, more or less.
Since illness first struck me,
And I must confess

That often I wonder
If any people still see
Inside this changed body
There is still the same me.

I've tried so hard
To describe and explain,
But all of those efforts
Seem to have been in vain.

I live in the shadows
Where no one can see
More than the barest
Outline of me.

And for a long time now
I have fought this hell
By hiding my feelings
Inside of a shell.

I make the shell stronger
With each passing day,
Hoping it might keep
Some bad things away.

I've let it grow round me
Only to find
That as it gets thicker
I become more blind.

This shell serves no purpose,
For I must confess
It does not protect me,
Or make me hurt less.

So what would it matter
If everyone should see
This shell of mine shatter,
And expose the real me?

Would they see that inside
I am still the same man,
Struggling daily
The best that I can?

To live my life bravely
In spite of my fears,
And be seen as a good man
By all of my peers?

I suppose it's a gamble
That I must decide
By staying inside here
Or stepping outside.

It may sound quite simple,
And perhaps it should be;
But I'm afraid that it isn't,
At least not for me...