Woman

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Woman who are you? Are you the sum
Of what society tells you? A chameleon which
Changes with times? Trying on new hats, fashions
And ingrained doctrines? The muse of poems; a garden
Of delight. A precious flower to be plucked when ripe?

An angel, a muse, a doll, a whore, a mother. The nurturer,
The healer, and mediator? The bosom to nourish, comfort
And to produce pleasure? Or summed and defined by
Your reproductive organ -- like so much a side of beef?
You’re taught your value lies in exterior factors…

What a pile of bull shit. You’ve felt it again and again,
Your enduring strength. You’re by no means the weaker sex;
So why do you still buy the romanticized slavement?
What if you denounce it all? Would you go against
What nature intended? The world in overpopulated, is it not?

The earth would tremble with the force of the collective
Anger, of every girl, woman, and crone venting the rage
Of millenniums, of subjugation, abuse, and inequality
Your strength lies in your feminine essence. Don’t squander
Your charms, and come together in equal measures



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