is this still me? …. by VJ Knutson
Was that really me
fought for feminine rights,
eleven-years-old
persistent to the win?
And was that me
lied about her age
strapped on work clothes
bore responsibility?
And did you know her
that obstinate teen
who defied tradition
and chased an education?
Where did she go,
a faint memory now,
how life tamed her,
taught her subservience
to bury her light
in the shadow of men’s
dreams, that toil should be
selfless, and love for other.
Listen, and you will hear
her echo, faint but growing,
the sound of a mind burning,
the laughter of a soul on fire.
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: Was that really me?, and Eugi’s Weekly prompt: laughter. Image from personal collection.)
i saw her
connie on a bike
she was fifteen
near a demi orchard
she did not know my name
so i went home alone instead
sadly
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Loved this poem!
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Agree.
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