What am I
But a woman and a womb?
A basket or a tomb?
A statistic of sorts
An application form
Filled with noughts
I have a story to tell
And so much frustration I could yell
In the lexicon of womanhood
I still count!
I want you to hear me out!
Please listen with your heart
And not your ears
My life and decisions
Were not always mine
And frequently filled with tears.
And now that time is over
And I find myself so much older!
The younger woman that was me
Had so many options that she could be!
And so my title will be never be “mother"
And I find myself relegated to the
title of “other”.
But please don’t feel sorry for me!
I’m going to grow and develop and be all that I can be.
I’ve learned how to lose and how to give
I’ve learned how to love
And how to live
A life that is mine
And not just mark time.
Susan