|
|
|
|
|
|
Not Mya II
by Billye Okera
Friday, June 01, 2007
Rated "PG" by the Author.
Share
Print Save Become a Fan
In growing older...the line to "special" is crowded. |
|
Not Mya II
That I was niether Angella, Assata, Alice or Mya Never dawned on me till I was fourty-two And men no longer called me sweetie, But mam. And I watched them not for the ripple of shoulders Or buldged britches Pondered over daquaries and girl talk But for quiet compassions And eyes too polite to notice Varicose veins and prolapsed stomachs. Before then, I lived in a dream of 'special' me Only waking to find the line to "special"...crowded.
Billye Okera
...
|
|
|
Want to review or comment on this
poem?
Click here to login!
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Click here for your Membership!
|
| Reviewed by Karen Palumbo |
6/2/2007 |
|
Interesting! And time waits for no one, it just keeps marching on and on and on.......
Be safe,
Karen |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Sue Hess |
6/1/2007 |
|
| wow can i relate to this one...did you write it for me...you could have |
|
|
|
|
|
|