Woman,
Your hands are meant to cook
Or so they tell me

Woman,
Your back is meant to bear a child
Or so they tell me

Woman,
Your body is meant to satisfy
Or so they tell me

Woman,
Your lips are meant to be silent
Or so they tell me

But Woman,
You are so much more
I tell myself

Woman,
Your hands make so much more than just "good food"
I tell myself

Woman,
Your mind, your soul is intricate your thoughts matter
I tell myself

Woman,
You can build or you can destroy
What you are depends on only you
I continue to tell myself