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“Aaah, there are days when stress attacks the serene Moniquinha in a unique way! That day I was fed up with the hunch of the aunties who show up twice a year to talk about little pumpkins. On your birthday and at Christmas. Always like this! So, a little poem was born, from the way home to the dentist appointment.

they will talk

They will talk.

They'll say it's been too fast, that we barely know each other.

They'll say that we've been dating for many years, that we're dragging it out - or being bullied.

They will say that we are immature.

Or that you're too old to marry in white.

They'll say that dating a woman who has a child is pierced;

They will say that an older woman without a child is pierced.

They will also say that having a child is nonsense.

Having only one child is also not enough.

Having more than one child, are you crazy?

Go talk.

They'll say you won't handle it.

And if you realize it, they'll say it was luck.

They will talk, they will talk...

I just won't listen.

***

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