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Pamela Pauley-Perreault

(Editor's Prologue: As a teenager at age 16, I had a terrible bout with the chickenpox (at Christmas vacation, no less). It's something I never forgot.) But my inspiration for this poem was my daughter, Shannon, when she was 18. It brought back so many memories.

POX IN THE MIRROR

Oh when upon me, a pox does grow, 
Will it pock my face, will it scar my nose?
In a mirror all I see are ugly dots,
And each time I look, they seem to grow.
 Oh why a pox upon me now?




As a child you are meant to have the pox.
As a teen tho' I know, it's ruined my life.
My friends won't come near, I hate the mirror;
I'll never feel pretty, it's marred my life.
 Oh why a pox upon me now?

But two weeks from now, they'll all be gone,
The ugly pox and those awful scabs.  
I hope in the mirror the scars won't appear,
Just little pink dots have replaced the scabs.


 Oh bye to the pox upon me now, 
 For they've found their way to my best friend now!

	Pamela Pauley-Perreault
               ©1995

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