Are you disgusted
With the way I speak/
Pardon me! For that’s
The only way I know.
My voice is coarse
And my features sharp
One look can snipe
A blade of grass.
I cannot laugh
Like the tingling of bells.
Nor can I match my gait
To the rhythm of poetry;
I gobble what I am offered
With no polite etiquettes;
And can sleep for hours
After a tiring work.
But if these make me
Less of a woman,
Am I pretending
To be someone else/
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