Who Then Had The Time To Meet Herself - Poem by Parveen Shakir
That I'd manage to glue together the slivers
of my shattered pride,
repair the tattered wings of my aborted flights,
and obtain my body's leave to bid you farewell—
I didn't know.
I had learned so little about myself.
Otherwise this ritual of saying goodbyes
could have ended long ago;
I could've found my courage earlier.
But who then had the time to meet herself?
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye