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The wife of our Chinese neighbor
She is strange tonight walking outside their house alone
Towards the dark plaza wearing a face that cannot be drawn
From my window I look at her edging her way slowly straight
To the other end of this concrete road along a line of trees
What is it that the china man this time did to her native sensitivities?
She was taken from the mountains away from her humble beginnings
Only to find herself in this red big house; bearing him children
Giving him the citizenship and when everything is taken from her
The china man now hits him with a hard slap that she is nothing
But a used rag, a dirty doormat that all must stamp upon, including her
very own children.She cannot believe it.
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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