Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2020
Years of knowing I wasn’t wanted
Have poisoned the tenderest
Portions of my soul.

Butterflies have become moths
And the music is always out of tune.

The sunset is an ugly smear
And sunrise holds no promise.

Flowers do not yield perfume
And all the birds are Ravens.

Words that used to comfort me
Now echo back in hateful tones

I tell myself there is a light
And try hard to believe it.

But it’s illusive and it fades
Each time I think I see it.

Wanting to be wanted
Turns out to be a foolish game.

How can anybody want me
When I don’t even want myself.
ljm
I wrote this during the last weeks of my former job.  Several of the men who ran the place   decided I wasn't either a male or a Korean, and therefore needed to be harassed into quitting.  It didn't work.  I toughed it out until they finally closded the whole department so they could get rid of me without being sued.  I sued them anyway and won for back overtime.  Not a lot, but enough to send my message.  There are more Koreans living in L.A. than there are living in Seoul, Korea.  And most are lovely people.
Written by
Lori Jones McCaffery  F/Laughlin, Nevada
(F/Laughlin, Nevada)   
43
         Sk Abdul Aziz, ---, annh, S Olson, Sacha and 25 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems