Who chose this life? I do not know—
maybe my heart, maybe my life,
maybe my God. But why?
I wanted to be free. Happy, a smile on my lips.
I smile, but not for this lonely life of tears,
looking out the window, waiting for another morning.
My life is listening to rules of the game they play with us.
You are a woman. This is your fault,
This is the price you must pay for being
The wrong gender.
Yes, I am a woman
I am alone, a long way from my goal.
No one will help me, no one knows how.
Photo by Dirk Haas.
Dear Seeta: The speaker in your poem feels isolated, alone, cursed. I hope that there can be moments, and longer-than-moments, when the isolation is broken, when hope shines through the window like the warmest sunshine. Please know that you are deeply appreciated by many, many people. Wishing you the best, Stacy
Dear Seeta ~
I just read your poetry. I hear you and believe you. Please know there are more of us out there who care about you and other women and people in your Country. You all have been turned upside down and it is not fair at all !! Sending you love and light, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Respect to you,
I wish I could, Seeta, I wish I could help you. I don’t know how, but I want to, anyhow.
Your opening line is so strong: “Who chose this life? I do not know.” I feel so much outrage at the rules you refer to that Afghan women have been born into, and I wish all of you the best in changing them and reaching your goals. Writing about them is a very good first step.