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My maid broke up today. Something I never thought I’d have to say. In my bouncing babyish bubble, She doesn’t have a love life, She doesn’t have a say. She must continue To iron the shirts, To make the tea, To cook tomorrows meal, To keep us going When inside She is broken. I stopped to ask her If we could go catch a movie. A paltry solution For a fragmented life Her world must be. She must have been disgusted That I thought mere fiction Would fix her reality. I hurt rather than help. She helps through her heart unmet. She doesn’t have any girl friends Or a mother to lean on. She must hold back her tears, And bear it to the bone. She is a real woman A woman in love Who can’t afford to wallow, Or other privileged stuff. I suggested a day of, maybe a week, But an idle mind may make her more weak. Nothing can repair her broken dreams, Of being a bride wed, Of sharing a bed, Of someone she could call her own. All of this she silently must mourn. How distant we are, that I cannot reach her, Or comfort her, or soothe her ruptured nerves. This is a life no one deserves.
0
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC
Unmade
My maid broke up today. Something I never thought I’d have to say. In my bouncing babyish bubble, She doesn’t have a love life, She doesn’t have a say. She must continue To iron the shirts, To make the tea, To cook tomorrows meal, To keep us going When inside She is broken. I stopped to ask her If we could go catch a movie. A paltry solution For a fragmented life Her world must be. She must have been disgusted That I thought mere fiction Would fix her reality. I hurt rather than help. She helps through her heart unmet. She doesn’t have any girl friends Or a mother to lean on. She must hold back her tears, And bear it to the bone. She is a real woman A woman in love Who can’t afford to wallow, Or other privileged stuff. I suggested a day of, maybe a week, But an idle mind may make her more weak. Nothing can repair her broken dreams, Of being a bride wed, Of sharing a bed, Of someone she could call her own. All of this she silently must mourn. How distant we are, that I cannot reach her, Or comfort her, or soothe her ruptured nerves. This is a life no one deserves.
munch-gee
Written by
Colombo
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC
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