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Purity Kimani May 2015
She walks down the street

Her head up high

Her smile dazzles all

Crowning her unwavering beauty

Her shiny, expensive jewels

Arouses stares and whispers.



But they don’t know that

Behind her closed door,

When she pulls down the window curtain

When her make-up has been washed off

And her precious ornaments

Has been carefully tucked away

She faces her own shadow!



This is what you don’t know

She is the one

Who lies awake every night

Not sure if HE is coming home

Hoping he is only running late

That’s her share of love.



She picks her phone

But dials not

She knows where he might be

Curled up in another’s arms

Where he rightfully belongs.



Only this woman can tell

How hard it is, to want a man

Who belongs to another

To have his affection, but not his name

To be showered with jewels and gifts

To compensate for his absence.

She is the other woman.



And who said its easy

To be in her shoes?

You may choose to judge her path

Or blame the twisted society

But I,

Chose to put it down in words

For you to read.



(November 24, 2012 at 11:19am)

— The End —