Don't judge a book by its cover!

She sits down,

Everyone stares,

Her big, red nose,

Her chin with the hairs.

 

She talks on the phone,

Her voice like a banshee,

Loud and opinionated,

Keep it down, can she?

 

Her eyes bulge,

Her neck recedes,

The news must be bad.

Conversation proceeds.

 

She wears a red dress,

Not very flattering,

Oblivious she continues,

On with her chattering.

 

Mouth void of teeth,

Unconcerned with stares,

Searching her handbag,

Produces some spares.

 

She lifts up her head,

Her face now framed,

She looks round the room,

Expression ashamed.

 

She realises that,

She speaks rather loud,

‘Apologies folks!’

She says to the crowd.

 

No apology needed,

Its us who are staring,

She’s just on the phone,

Obviously caring.

 

Compulsion to explain,

‘My daughters in labour!’

I feign a smile,

Shame growing greater.

 

Who am I to judge,

A book by its cover,

It’s plain to see,

Some people must love her.

 

Don’t criticise people,

On appearances alone,

You have no idea,

What goes on at home!