Why are my steps so different
As I walk into the windís current?
I see others who are my age,
Willing to continue to engage,
In another time of their life,
Even before a husband or wife.
But all the wonders of creation
Seem to tap my shoulder with elation,
And I canít tear myself away from the fun
Of being caught to see and not to run.
Unexpected thereís a whirlwind,
This force around me is my friend.
Donít bother me, leave me,
Your words are only to bereave.
ďIím busy, Iím busy,Ē I cry.
ďPlease, please believe me,Ē I sigh.
ďI need not talk of your race,
And Iím too engaged in my space.
ďYou only trip my steps of measure,
So donít! Donít take my pleasure.Ē
What a sad and shallow people those,
Who seem to only wantonly pose
The attitudes of these times of no respect,
For a womanís needs to create with no regret.
They seem to believe we have no net.