[Jayne Osborn]

Some of you are aware that I had a very nasty fall recently, of the "face-planting" kind, while I was on holiday in Ireland. I had to have stitches inside and outside my bottom lip, and to a deep gash near one eyebrow. This poem was sort of cathartic to write, but I didn't want to post it on the Metrical board for general critique. Instead, you can reply to it in rhyme (and if you feel so inclined, tell me to "get over myself." )

I know my friends are only being kind:
“You’re far more conscious of it than we are,”
but even so, it’s playing on my mind
that they pretend they haven’t seen the scar.
It’s prominent enough – at least to me;
I think it’s quite impossible to miss,
but everyone says, “Oh, I didn’t see
it till you mentioned it.” They think that this
is what I want to hear; not quite the case.
In actual fact, it sometimes makes me cry
that I’ve sustained this damage to my face.
(I’m sorry for myself, I can’t deny.)
Although the scar’s not huge, it will remain,
and so I ask: Am I just being vain?