When I was born my parents smiled,
Welcoming me into the world full of fiends.

In my tender age I developed many aspirations,
To be a doctor, lawyer, artist or a writer by profession.

But in that age I dint realize,
I was a girl and I wasn't allowed to fantasize.
These were just dreams which were meant to be broken,
Similar to the ones which break when you are woken.

As I started growing up the world seemed more brutal,
Objectifying me as a showpiece which is futile.

The men around resembled more like beasts,
Seeing whom the hatered has only increased.
As I walked through the road their eyes scanned me from tip to toe,
Penetrating through my body and tearing my soul.

My temperament could only be described by length of my clothes,
Characterizing me either as cultured or a *****.
If I am loud I am more vulnurable to men,
And if I am soft I am dumb or restrained.

My weight my height my color is a matter of worry,
Coz who would like a fat short dark girl to marry?

There's a problem in all my moves.
So why should I bother and be a fool?

So Now that I don't give a ****!
All the gentlemen out there kindly keep your thoughts mum and mouth shut!