Not Allowed (Rev.) Poem by Margaret Alice

When you saw I had refuelled the Jeep
in less than four weeks, you freaked –
‘How dare you fill within the month,
don’t you know the cost of fuel? ’

This morning when you saw the tank
on empty you explode again – ‘Can’t
you fill this up before I have to drive? ’
It is a no-win situation I explain, with

you getting angry irrespective of what
I do, and you got angry again – ‘Do
you want me to turn back home now,
whining about my words like you do –

I have a right to be angry, this is who
I am! ’ you shout, and I know I must
grin and bear it or face the result of
answering, a verbal emotional attack

I give up, I cannot make you always
right – but I too should have the right
to an opinion although I will not be
allowed to express it