.... and you haven't even read my thesis,
you know, the one gathering dust that said 'this is
a girl whom to be reckoned with,
a unique mind' and blah and blah
- what a sober laugh, that you might care.
The Ph.D sponsored, researched, encouraged,
waitress, washing hands (lost job) undamaged,
whilst I lived on in humiliation,
miles away, and condemnation -
until just at the ceremony
of that which was supposed to be
you kept -my name on top, the leaflet,
and, of course, presumably lost it.
Gathering dust in the shaded bookcase
keeping it there for a 'just in case'
you might perhaps take the time to read:
but - no... there's the Daily Mail, or Times, to heed.
Pretty novel at its time.
Mine. It was mine, and remains.... shame - mine.
Let's face it: your interests never lay with me.
Only the rest of your family.
Proudly, you annouce your daughter as 'Doctor'.
In the know, I know you should not ought to.
Tara McH
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-doc-whoopee/
