Posted in Poem


for what I feel
when they see
only small pieces of what I am
They can’t stand me
for something I realize vaguely
words I said, what I didn’t do
what I gave up
I am a fragile fragile wing
with a bulls neck


for det jeg føler
når de ser
bare små biter av den jeg er
De tåler ikke meg
for noe jeg halvveis skjønner
ord jeg sa, det jeg ikke gjorde
det jeg ga opp
Jeg er en skjør skjør vinge
med tyrenakke



I am a mother of 3 teenagers, journalist of education, and interested in everything from politics, theater, spirituality, music, literature, food, design, children´s upbringing, agriculture, knitting, painting, nature, philosophy...yes the whole universe...

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