I've always been a woman who is very strong,

But this time something is truly wrong,

The doctors run a battery of crazy tests,

The results come back, "you need to rest."

From the outside looking in, everything looks alright,

But inside I am having to struggle and fight.

I try hard to tell you what they said,

From the look you give me, I'd be better off dead. 

You look around just to see me cry, 

You smirk and say, "Nothing is wrong, it's all a lie."

Again you mumble, "You aren't sick, you look just fine."

Why can't anyone see the pain on the other side of the "FINE" line?