Sylvia Plath
Woman... you are weak
Only in as much as
You need to peek
Into the bathroom cabinet
And grab a razor
Because you must, must, must
Use that under arm hair eraser
Then gently pluck
Every single hair above
Those deep brown eyes
That I always love
When they peek into me
What do they see
What do you see in me
Your look leaves me weak, on my knee
And then when you talk
I hang on every word speak
You call me out, call me freak
Call me to you with your shriek
Call me with your bleak critique
Call me old, a crap antique
Calling out my feeble physique
You call me man, call me weak
We call our everything unique.

Sylvia Plath, American poet and author, died today in 1963.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. She left her children to find her dead body.

  2. A fine poem, about a woman beset by so much …

  3. She left her body to end her pain …

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