We are grown people we claim.
To prove it our lips form a tight line,
our faces show wrinkles
which remind us of years of
living,
striving,
surviving,
crying after lost loves,
burying friends,
holding babies,
doing the washing and cooking.
Behind all the pretence, the masks,
the make up to cover the sharp lines,
one child meeting another,
forever trembling,
stumbling,
wondering,
hoping to make sense.
We are grown people we claim
but deep down, if only we had eyes to see,
we are still children seeking our way home.
2003
– –
Poems chosen from an anthology of poems called ‘For Crying Out Loud – Voice of an Exile’, published early 2016.