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Poem: Woman


There’s a woman inside me, suffering –
I let her roar.
She needs the Time, they say,
that is all.
Whatever is in there,
the chairs and the books,
she throws them around
when nobody looks.
She’s broken, distorted,
mismatched in her moods.
Hides deep in disorder
from when her world shook.
There’s a woman inside me, paralyzed.
I make her weep.
Because even if I could, it’s true,
I won’t let you leave.