She wears a smile, she's neat and clean;
this is the way she should be seen.
But no one sees her heart, where she
is just a slave. She is not free.
Her secret thought she can't admit;
she's bound to be a hypocrite.
She grows in body and in mind.
Her secret thought is left behind.
Her smile is false, and cold as frost.
She does not know what she has lost.
Her secret thought was life and fire.
Without it she has no desire
for anything, except to please.
May God help women such as these!
They act exactly as they ought
and do not know their secret thought.
This poem appeared in the journal of the INSTITUTE FOR SELF ANALYSIS in December 1980