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Poems
On Being A Woman
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967 / Long Branch / New Jersey)

On Being A Woman

Why is it, when I am in Rome,
I'd give an eye to be at home,
But when on native earth I be,
My soul is sick for Italy?

And why with you, my love, my lord,
Am I spectacularly bored,
Yet do you up and leave me- then
I scream to have you back again?

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