I stand at my window
Watching her from across the road
Deftly move around the mom and pop store
Each customer that she serves
Touches in me a raw nerve
Had I been a bit less chauvinistic
I would not have lost my beloved little mystic.
She has now to work for a livelihood
Her pride would never have withstood
My arrogance and my family's haughty gaze
Directed at her humble origins and simple ways.
Sandra Martyres
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lost-love-57/
