I am dead and in my grave.
Let me alone.
The seeping of rains down through me,
And the reaching of roots down after me,
And the skimming of leaves above me, are enough.
Let me alone.
You have had your will of me,
So wherefore, now,
Should your questions creep here to me,
And the roots of your doubt reach at me,
And your thoughts restively skim and shudder above me?
Let me alone.
Would you rifle the grave too?
Go away.
I have nothing left for your taking.
My hair is not gold, but dust now.
My eyes are not stars, but stillness.
My flesh is not beauty aflame, but very cool.
Let me alone.
I am busy working to bring Cale Young Rice's "A Woman Wronged" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Cale Young Rice's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "A Woman Wronged" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.