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kayla morrison
Poems
Apr 2015
My dad is a feminist.
I'm not.
My Dad thinks I should
be out burning bras
showing off unshaved legs
parading through the streets "like the gays."
I do not.
I remember talking in highscool
about my imaginary rich husband,
and never working again.
My Dad does not.
He remembers panicking in hischool
telling me not to be a cheerleader
asking "why can't girls play on he football team?"
My Dad does not realize,
I don't want to burn my
Victoria's Secret push up bra,
I want to shave my legs.
My dad thinks
the only person who
can decide whether
or not
to keep a baby
is a woman.
I do not.
A baby-life
is created by a
man
and
a woman.
It should take a
man and a woman to decide.
My Dad does not realize it,
He thinks I am a product of
the patriarchy,
a victim to the crime.
but,
I don't want to
march down the streets of Boston,
****.
Because I know some women,
cry **** when its a lie.
I know some men,
who cant cry
for help,
because **** is a woman's issue.
My Dad does not realize it hurts,
because
I am not a feminist,
I am an equalist.
I believe in
mutual respect,
choice,
balance.
Stay at home moms
and
Stay at home dads.
My dad does not realize it hurts the cause to be a "feminist"
My dad is a feminist,
I am not.
#love
#politics
#family
#equality
#explcit
#genderissues
Written by
kayla morrison
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