a self-portrait poem
in which you make
a specific action
a metaphor for your life
And there it was,
the small house
with tiny dolls.
She used to gaze at them
through the windows
just like she looked
at the people in the houses
who didn't see the little girl
longing for their warm room
nice food on the table,
and all those smiles
those smiles.
And there she sits
behind the window
of the small house
waiting for the world
to pass by.
© Syl2020
0 comments:
Post a Comment