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you call her a **** you call her a ***** you tear her skin into tiny shreds and then beg for more, your masculinity is fuelled by the sexuality you stripped her of. she has no right to be liberated in your eyes, but your eyes also want to see what is in between her thighs, your respect for her body only exists as long as she is your possession. a woman is to you what a table is to a person; something to use, sometimes a burden. a woman can't be outspoken without being a ***** but if she's quiet you treat her like **** you tell us to fight for what we believe in, but when we do you tell us we're complaining, (maybe you think I'm complaining) while you're thinking about that please mind the wage gap, yes the wage gap MORE THINGS TO COMPLAIN ABOUT! I get 75 pence for every pound a man makes, maybe I'm making mistakes? no, no I am not. perhaps some people have forgot that someone's *** doesn't make them under qualified, I think your brain is nonaligned,   because right now in two thousand and sixteen a woman should be respected even if she isn't the god **** queen. I hope you can see what struggles women endure, we may as well go back years and years and knit at home while you go to war. I'll just be over here cleaning the entire house, oh and while I'm at it I'll clean that glass ceiling while waiting for my husband and feeding my offspring because that's all a woman does right? cook clean and nurture, and give yourself to your husband at night God forbid you swing the other way! single, or worse... no kids and gay! women have to fit into perfect cookie cutters. that, and a size 6 but not too skinny though, men aren't nutters! big ***** big *** and a small waist your extra few inches of skin can be erased with diet pills, exercise plans and corsets! if not, you can choose the forfeit, of society telling you that you can achieve your dream beach body, to catch the attention of somebody preferably a man who can be the bread winner, while we can stay at home, look after his kids and cook his dinner. I'll stop complaining now and go back to concealing my blemishes and under eye bags, while you talk to your friend about how we are still just slags. ~T.T
0
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 8:33 AM UTC
Feminism: A Poem
you call her a **** you call her a ***** you tear her skin into tiny shreds and then beg for more, your masculinity is fuelled by the sexuality you stripped her of. she has no right to be liberated in your eyes, but your eyes also want to see what is in between her thighs, your respect for her body only exists as long as she is your possession. a woman is to you what a table is to a person; something to use, sometimes a burden. a woman can't be outspoken without being a ***** but if she's quiet you treat her like **** you tell us to fight for what we believe in, but when we do you tell us we're complaining, (maybe you think I'm complaining) while you're thinking about that please mind the wage gap, yes the wage gap MORE THINGS TO COMPLAIN ABOUT! I get 75 pence for every pound a man makes, maybe I'm making mistakes? no, no I am not. perhaps some people have forgot that someone's *** doesn't make them under qualified, I think your brain is nonaligned,   because right now in two thousand and sixteen a woman should be respected even if she isn't the god **** queen. I hope you can see what struggles women endure, we may as well go back years and years and knit at home while you go to war. I'll just be over here cleaning the entire house, oh and while I'm at it I'll clean that glass ceiling while waiting for my husband and feeding my offspring because that's all a woman does right? cook clean and nurture, and give yourself to your husband at night God forbid you swing the other way! single, or worse... no kids and gay! women have to fit into perfect cookie cutters. that, and a size 6 but not too skinny though, men aren't nutters! big ***** big *** and a small waist your extra few inches of skin can be erased with diet pills, exercise plans and corsets! if not, you can choose the forfeit, of society telling you that you can achieve your dream beach body, to catch the attention of somebody preferably a man who can be the bread winner, while we can stay at home, look after his kids and cook his dinner. I'll stop complaining now and go back to concealing my blemishes and under eye bags, while you talk to your friend about how we are still just slags. ~T.T
Tal
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Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 8:33 AM UTC
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