Hypocracy

Ink pen on paper

Poem by: Mitra Samimi-Urich

Hypocrisy

When I was a young girl, in the city of Isfahan,

we were given a set of rules;

“ be a doctor, a lawyer, or an engineer if you are a boy. “

“ be beautiful, flawless, perfect, if you are a girl.

“ be strong, but you must play by the rules.

“ do not play soccer in the alley with the boys.

“ girls should not ride a bike on the streets.

“ do not interfere with politics to object the rules of the king.”

When I tried to ride my grandfather’s bike, I was scolded.

I insisted, and I pushed and peddled away.

I insisted, and I played soccer in the alley with the boys.

I insisted, and I borrowed the motorcycle of the boy next door.

When the police stopped me riding on the street,  I objected.

Forty years has now passed and six thousand miles away from my city, here too;

“ let go of materials things, but your face looks too aged, fix-it.”

“ Think of the poor, but you need wealth to stand out in a crowd. “

“Be strong, but do not speak when you see injustice, it is in god’s hands.”

“ be nice and smile even if they break your soul. “

Funny how they still try to control,

Even now that I’m “old”,

but I still continue to be bold.