Though I was born through
the dust and ashes of fallen stars,
I walk behind my equals
And I am treated like property.

Only I know my true power.
I have the power
To bite my tongue
And play along,
To sit on a shelf
And keep to myself.

I am only wanted for my beauty.
Constantly changing to
Keep up with trends,
Starving myself to fit in the mold,
Denying myself what I want,
Sometimes cutting my wrists with the knife
Because I can’t become the perfect wife.

I can only be so powerful for so long.

I speak up.
I open my mouth,
Cut my hair,
Wear what I want,
Because I don’t care.
It doesn’t matter what they see;
I will be what I want to be.

‘Cause I remember being wanted,
feeling fearless and undaunted
by the task placed before me.
Now all I do is sit under trees,
thinking about how this once perfect world
has become so unfurled;
how this world is so tilted
and kindness has wilted-
so much so that a compliment
has become so complicated.
that everything is a come on,
and we must keep an eye on
the hems of our dresses
and our beautiful tresses
in order to keep the boys happy.

Women deserve more
Than becoming a total bore
To prevent being called a *****.

Women deserve to live
Without having to give
Their life away
To make the men stay.