The Fury Of Cooks
Poem By Anne Sexton
I did not grow up picking Lillies from the field.
I was a latchkey child with chores and responsibilities.
That's the way my mother raised my sister Mimmie and me.
To be independent and aware at a very early age.
I can sometimes be difficult, direct and demanding.
Traits others discover within minutes in my presence.
When I give of myself and time,
That is done without question.
I am one of those Give-Back-To-The Community kind.
And I've learned after many years of doing it...
Not too many in the community appreciate the sacrifice.
Since I am limited with 'bling' to impress!
I've been told many times,
'Why are you here wasting your life?
You can go somewhere else with the skills you have.
And make lots of money! '
It sickens me to hear this,
From those who assess others...
By what they 'visual' possess.
They same folks that express 'unity'.
Based on conditions met!
My mother didn't raise me like that!
She taught 'me' to make contributions.
Delivering to others my best.
Needless to say we had many arguments about this.
Guess who won?
The only regret I have?
Not too many were present to digest her message.
Although I am grateful and blessed,
To have listened.
And thankful for a fixed income I magically manage.
And a can opener I use without protest.
I am skilled.