She swayed with grace and poise
As if she were created by the hand of degas:
A still beauty brought to life
Like a glorious swan that swims swiftly
Or like a fluttering butterfly flapping through the clouds.

In my mind you moved.
Your feet tapped on my heart and the lub-dub of my soul sped
A slight inclination to always imitate the You that danced in my mind  
A greater inclination to reminisce about our younger selves and our younger pains
Overpowered by an antipathy so strong that it caused even my greatest of inclinations
To dwindle and halt.

Repressed
Depressed
Oppressed
Why?
Is it a women’s job to submit herself to her guy?
And she lies and she lies
To deny that in her eyes
She sees no more beauty;
She’s esteem deprived.

But she must cry on her own shoulder
With no friend to console her.
Her best friend is the belligerent she fights
Like a soldier:
Who knows war and warfare.
But it’s unfair to compare
This maiden who would not dare combat with her man
And men alike
Who might in spite of the fight she leads
Impede her needs
By appealing to his so called right to served.
She too has a right to be heard.

So speak up and be recognized for more than your thighs.

Because you lie and you lie but you can-
Not deny.
You are worth more than that
Worth ridden guy.