That White-haired Woman

(dedicated to Munira)

 

That white-haired woman in the mirror isn't me!

she's a fraud, an intruder, and I suspect her of thievery.

my things are missing...my bank account is empty.

gone are my youth, my hopes, desires, along with my health, breath, memory.

 

I know once I was a part of a family,

but Time has kidnapped them all and hidden them in some history

book. there she goes again, humming that melody --

something I wrote long ago. she's even stolen my poetry!

 

Here I am in this photograph -- just look and see!

my clothes are so stylish, I'm standing straight and tall. I'm so pretty!

all my plans are in a briefcase, waiting to be...

well, I forgot what they were, but they were meant to make me happy.

 

Have I done what I came here for? I don't really

know who else to ask. I find no friend, no lover, no enemy,

only that white-haired woman, smiling vacantly

through her tears. if she knows, she won't say. She just looks back silently.

~Broken Wings~