Written for dVerse.



The older man

wants to carry my heavy bags

carry my groceries

treat me as fragile

which might be okay

if he didn’t ignore my words

treat me as dumb

like some scarecrow

without a brain.

I carry my own bags

speak my own words

grow my muscles

arms and brain.

I speak for myself

and those he can’t tolerate.

We are at odds, he and me;

he’d rather I had no brain–

I’d rather he spoke no words.


Sascha Darlington


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