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 Annotateyou back again?
poem by Dorothy Parker
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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