Oh how I wish I could be
somebody else,
in someone else’s shoes.
With a better voice,
a better view. . .
More compassion,
wish I’d been through
what you’d been through.
Oh how I wish I could see
all the things you’d seen.
Wish I could relate, but I’ve been told
I’m Simply Too Old
to understand the sad demand
to be understood.
Oh the irony,
my whole life
has been the strife
of a disabled housewife.
Are you sure I’m the one
who doesn’t understand?
Honestly, it’s tough to tell.
But I can feel our disconnect
in the loudest silence I’ve ever heard.
It’s interesting how the years
show age discrimination.
One day they say you’re too young,
the next you’re too old.
It’s so funny how I’ve never told myself
“I can’t”
in the face of complication.
