Poetry

A Woman

I’m too old now and soon I will die

But I was lovely once to men

And I could make them honour me

Exotic features turned them on.

My sons have left, which is the worst

And many husbands and divorces;

It is all over and all past

Thus near the end forgive me, Jesus.

I wasn’t one to go to church

But priests and doctors liked me still

They knew I nearly used a bridge

To kill myself, mentally ill.

So all my life, with benefits

And maintenance and holidays

I raised my boys on divorce suits

And state aid because sickness pays.

It was a man’s world, and they loved

An idle woman like I was.

In my day I was unreproved

If I was bad, forgive me please.

I’m lucid, I can see the truth

Though old and ugly and alone

As solitary as in youth

My one achievement was my son.

And I looked after him, so God

Look after me, just as I am

And when I die, flat out in bed

Please don’t avoid me, but take me home.