Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

A real woman Is made of flesh, blood, and pride She reveals her thoughts from inside One day she smiles and tomorrow she cries At times she has a dreadful glare in her eyes If she pleases, she belches after a can of beer A real woman is bold and suppresses her fear She listens to a man but does not obey him She leads her own life but never betrays him In an elegant dress she enjoys making heads spin A real woman knows she's more than makeup and skin In a tee and khaki pants she feels better than ever She cares for herself 'cause she's not young forever She jogs in the mornings with her pulse beating fast Stepping through mud puddles, she's having a blast Though unintentionally, she crushes many young hearts She learns from her past because a real woman is smart No, she's not a lady, her style is rather fragrant than mild She does as she pleases. A real woman is wild.

When I was younger, I truly believed That angels walked on the clouds. Which is why, when I strolled down the streets, I would never see angels around. My first frightful time going overseas, My hands clenched in my lap on the plane. I was searching for those angels to soothe me, But instead there was just overcast rain. That's when I knew that I was alone, A minuscule body in the ocean of fear. There was nobody, no saint above my head, And what was below me was cruelly unclear. Not knowing why, I searched the sky, Hoping that an angel would caress me. But every time I glared in the sun, The scorching light would possess thee. I crouched in the alleyway and I cried, Soot black mascara bleeding down my cheek. Never have I been so defeated, Never have I been so weak. On this dark gloomy night I realized... The people on the street were ablaze. Not on fire, not demonic, not putrid. They seemed to be kissed by sun rays. I blinked once, twice and then thric...