She has no sense of her worth.
She looks in the mirror
And sees less than pennies.
She goes to work,
Puts her nose to the grindstone,
And doesn’t look up until
The clock strikes “all done.”
She sits in her room
And wonders about her family -
Children that are no longer.
She cries a million diamond tears,
But they are soaked up in the bedding
Instead of a treasure-chest heart.
She heats up her soup
And slurps it all alone -
Steak dinners a far away faded dream.
She ponders the meaning of her life -
Stained housecoats,
Worn out toothbrush,
Broken down sofa,
And threadbare carpet.
At least it doesn’t rain on her head.
She smiles sometimes when no one’s looking.
Only no one can see her,
And she has no sense of her worth.

04/01/2005

Posted on 04/02/2005
Copyright © 2025 Alison McKenzie