Drifting
Poem on a woman’s misplaced identity
Where she comes from,
marriages are made to last.
A daughter groomed for marriage,
Handed over from father to husband,
With pomp and splendor,
before her voice, she could find.
She assumes her calling in her stranger’s house -
A cook and caretaker for a mother’s dear boy.
In her bedroom, an object of lust,
she searches, in vain, for her self in his eyes.
Often she’s floating; drifting in troubled waters.
And when the waters are calm,
in her reflection she sees a stranger;
While her true self is buried and lost,
in great depths within.