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Worlds Where I Don't Belong

A poem that used to make me cry

By JolynePublished 2 years ago Updated 3 months ago 1 min read
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The smell of a burning cigarette on a cold, cozy night

The northern lights contrasting with the black sky

Under the spotlight, a guitar playing

Burning marshmallows in the fire camp

My niece falling asleep in my brother's arms

***

The smell of coffee preceding me

Walking confidently, projecting the image expected from me

Greeting my students with a genuine smile

Grading them with a genuine interest in their progress

Same routine every day, each day opening new doors

***

The smog warming the early days of fall

The sound of high heels on the city street

Buying a branding new purse on my way to cocktail hour

Celebrating a promotion that I care for

Cheering and drinking with friendly colleagues

***

The room crowded with ties and cocktail dresses

Champagne raining on the crystal glass pyramids

Walking elegantly up to the stage

Reading a passage from my book

Thanking the famous guesses for their attendance

***

The sink filled with coffee cups, a pen holding my hair

Working on my thesis, confidently respecting deadlines

Advocating for feminist environmentalist views

Pushing the limits of academics

Leading protests and movements

***

The day the dream will finally be fulfilled

Champagne will not be flowing from flute to flute

Only my tears following me from my bedroom to another task

As the loyal friends they have been for the past ten years

The dream, a shiny reminder that I do not belong

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Jolyne

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