i see her
in the kitchen
and garden
with white gloves
and fancy clothes
irritated and mad
how warm is it
to be imprisoned in that sheets
mothers and wives
children to fathers
demands and duty
welcome to queendom.
YOU ARE READING
ninth avenue - poetry
Poetry__ heavenly bodies only know where you are now. maybe i was not holding on too tight as you slipped away. wasn't i still yours? __
