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Jy Lin Poem
The sky outside is bright and clear,
Yet my heart is shrouded with tears.
Sunlight bathes the distant houses,
While smog blankets my soul.
I should cherish such rare sunny days,
But I'm trapped in this small room, afraid to stray.
Looking into the mirror—I see:
Unwashed hair,
Puffy eyes,
A sallow face with a bitter smile,
And stacked high on my desk a pile of files.
All forging invisible, unbreakable shackles around my feet.
Copyright © JY Lin | Year Posted 2025
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Details |
Jy Lin Poem
I am a girl with densely haired arms.
In school, classmates would exclaim upon seeing my arms,
"Oh my gosh, how can you have so much hair on your arms!"
"Kiwi girl! Haha"
I looked at my own arms, then at the arms of other girls.
Their arms were smooth and bright,
While mine were like unpeeled yam sticks.
Fine, dense hairs scattered in every direction,
A gust of wind could even make them change course.
I gently brushed my left arm with my right hand,
Though not touching the skin,
I startled the little hairs,
Feeling a tickle.
So I raised my arm to observe it against the window.
Hey—they're like little grasses growing freely on a hillside,
Some long, some short, swaying in the sunlight.
I think I'm starting to like my arm hair a little.
Copyright © JY Lin | Year Posted 2025
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