Unnoticed Invisibility

I am nothing more than a plain woman.

The one sitting next to you, that you never notice.



You look at me as if I am nothing but vacuous space.

I have given in to the patriarchy

and I must not have a brain inside this plain head of mine.

At least not one that is aware and that ‘thinks’.

Cooking, cleaning, and watching the children.

All day, and all night.

When am I to pick up a pen to create

and be as talented as you.

Tall, beautiful and intelligent.

You stand in front of me,

Jeering, and sometimes, with pity.

Do you pity me because I am plain?

Or is it because I am so young, and with children?

Dare I assume it is because you think I am stupid?

And yet, you will never know.

Simply because my passion, my creativity

Is not one you recognize.

We speak similar languages,

but do not communicate.

Is it because we do not talk -

or because you do not understand?

Do you not see that I have created?

Not all husbands mistreat their wives.

Not all women in arranged marriages are unhappy inside.

My reality, has nothing to do with you.

Even if you do not see me,

I do not need you to.

I exist, and revel in each moment that I do.

My child stirs, and I draw him close to me.

I hear my husbands steady breathing.

This is my poetry, this is my art.



I am nothing more than a plain woman.

The one sitting next to you, that you never notice.