Tucked Poem by Mohamed Eita

Purple dresses
For princesses
Had no appeal
For her
Fired up no zeal
In her
Nor did the talk
Of boy's kisses
Nor was she irked
By all the whispers
And hisses
They let behind her back
That she was somehow lack-
ing in due emphasis on
What matters

She paid no mind
To what matters
Nor did she mind that
Her matters
Did not matter
Were immaterial
Were not matter
But just the same
Did nag at her
As if they were as tangible
As real matter
More tangible
For that matter

For all she cared
For in the world
Was a lovely word
Nay, a lively world
Hid in the wrinkle
Of the fold
Of a tiny note
She fondly found
In a newly-bound
Notebook of old