Not so much a poem as a few impressions following my recent visit 'back home' to Northern Ireland...
(my hometown Ballymena)
Pack Up Your Troubles
I’m a failure as a woman – I don’t hate myself like I should
I don’t wish I looked like someone else, I quite like my food.
I don’t flaunt myself in skimpy tops and crops and then bemoan
The quality of male life I attract is akin to that beneath a stone!
I have confidence my body clock won't detonate if I don't reproduce
I don't mind getting older as long as I don’t resemble a moose.
I'm a failure as a woman - I don't agonise about my weight
I don't regard the currents of my exes with red-misted hate
I'm a failure as a woman – I don’t read our magazines
That pose as our friends while undermining our self-esteems
Telling us what to think, do, fear and wear this season.
I choose sanity, free-thinking individuality and reason.
Though I do have a hang-up about my lack of insecurities...
©LS King 2012