The title of this poem is The Glass Ceiling.

They’re standing up there,                                                                      

Triumphantly

I wonder,

How did this happen?

If I had been born differently, would it be different?

Would I be triumphant?
Instead of sitting here,

Watching their success.

Their happiness.

Their non-existent sorrow.

Why are they standing there?

Not even breaking a sweat,

While I’m down here, sweating hard,

Earning 79 cents to their dollar.

I would raise my voice if I thought it would make any difference.

But as I look up at them, and they work unseeingly, I realize,

They feel no remorse for me,

Or anyone else down here.

They only care for their own prosperity,

That should have been mine.

They say I’m not working hard enough,

Deep down, I’m wondering if it’s true,

If they really are working harder than I am,

And as I sit beneath them,

I ask myself why

I’m looking up at a glass ceiling, while they look at the sky.

My inspiration for this poem is sexism. When Margaret and I wrote this, we were trying to convey our feelings about sexism.

This isn’t a certain type of poem.

The element of poetry in this poem is imagery.

I am REALLY proud of this poem because it conveys everything that I wanted it to and I think that it could really make a difference in the world.