Thou has fire.
Go find yourself.
Earn. Live better.
Over and over.
Somewhere. We feel
Like our life is a revolving door. Same people. Same meetings. Milky coffee.
No money. Never any money.
Decade after decade.
Until there's no option but to hide in relationships.
In comforts of a man earning.
In raising children.
Dying embers of ambition.
Friday, January 8, 2016
A Poem for Housewives.
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