Across our road is a house that stands alone;
And from it is a girl that peeps a lot.
I see her blankly staring across the lawn;
Hoping perhaps to have my attention re-drawn
She is a blonde in her twenties;
With the innocence of a baby still in nappies.
And beauty that draws self-confident yuppies.
Who drive around town the latest Porsches
That hide their true identities;
Though she never utters a word, her eyes say it all.
When she looks, they rest on me and never let go;
Soulful ocean blue eyes that pierce through my soul,
Sad eyes that speak a language I dont know;
Deep within, they tell a story full of hurt and sorrow;
Behind the curtain of the house across the road.
Every day I retire to bed, afraid of the distance between us;
The distance separating the two different houses of ours.
The distance that is marked indelibly in racial bias.
The distance that goes beyond our two opposite houses
Whose bridging will be met
By a deafening disapproval chorus
From the house across our road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem