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Why not write a poem about eczema?

A poem by Zoe, who has bad eczema

Why are people so cruel,
Is it an unspoken rule?
They call me names
As if I’m to blame
Don’t they understand
It really isn’t planned?
You can’t catch it
Not even a bit
It makes me scratch
Even a small patch
It’s really sore
And very, very raw
Why can’t people leave me alone?
I wish I was at home
Don’t they know it makes me cry?
Why do they call me names?
Oh why?

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