Gypsy Woman
She is not more passionate than other women,
nor does she bring happiness just because she is a Gypsy,
she is the counterpart of a mystery, an unexplored zone,
captures a heart, even though yesterday she was a stranger.
Her seductive gaze hides sadness within,
even though her smile is her trademark for you,
you can delight her even with a flower
and that will be enough for you to be her hero.
And the centuries in her shadow are densely woven,
the shackles of customs and other people's prejudices follow her,
she will fight, even though her dreams lie stranded,
not caring for those who judge her with their eyes.
For her heart is wild and loves freedom,
she can deceive you with love into believing she belongs to you,
even though you never dreamed of such an outcome,
you belong to her and that fact does not fade.
And she was not just any Gypsy — she was mine,
or perhaps I was only fooling myself at the time,
though I was hers, I surrendered without a battle,
and I still am, our story is now my burden.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
