Poetry Box on a Shelf

There is a box on a shelf where they put me

But in truth, it is where I put myself

There is a list of my every transgression

On a fold out tag

And it’s taped to the box

Every now and then someone reads it

And they say it is good that I’m contained

But where is the list of all the victories?

Or the list of the things I overcame?

 

[Hannah Faoileán]

There's a list of all my transgressions on my mother's tongue. I totally get this poem.