"old foreign woman"
For some my being old is irritating
They tend to condescend and become rude
My voice is reedy, transparent, and
Passes through their minds unnoticed.
FOREIGN: Foreign can pique interest, open
Doors for conversations and confessions
Allowing unusual perspectives to explore
The mundane day-to-day going-on of their lives.
Yet, always, always, there are those moments
Of the acute hurtful realisation that I do not belong.
WOMAN: So deeply what I am and yet,
Days go by without my thinking at all about this
This is paradoxical because so much of what
I do, think, how I speak, who I love, finds its
Being through my womanhood. Also, so much
Of social dis-ease, psychological disorder, even
Many personal interactions are burdened by this.
(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)
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