This poem was literally heartfelt because I wrote it at a time I thought I was parting, for quite some time, from the one I truly love.
I am often bothered by the way women speak proudly about having a job, yet see it all right to go home and still do every home chore on their own, never contemplating the idea of being over-burdened. It has disturbed me for a long time, how some men and women wear a veil of ignorance that has convinced them that it’s “normal” for women to do so much more than their male family members or companions, never wondering whether they deserve better. And yes, I do mean "jobs".
On my recent visit to London, I got more aware of the phenomenon of the old houses which looked truly beautiful on the outside, yet were dusty, old and kind of sad in the inside. This, seemingly peculiar occurrence, felt like normalcy when I analogized it to people and their personalities.