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Juliet Nov 18
You are rain,
Accepted in comfort,
Born in love,
And never of hate.

I am storm,
Welcomed by protest,
Born with rage,
And never of love.

You were handed a spoonful of rice,
Because of the beauty you helped grew.
I was given an uncooked grain of rice,
Because of growth I have destroyed.

For hundreds of years,
And thousands after that,
You were the symbol for everything:
Strength, beauty, power, wisdom.
Whilst I am the symbol
Of things that I have long been fighting for
And deemed a monster
Whenever I try to do so.
Sanmi Pawar Nov 18
She stood by the door, with tear-stricken eyes;
A small-little push, and they'd be inside.
She thought of her mother, who left her all alone;
She wished for a father, who would care her like his own.
Her thoughts were broken, by the furious bangs on the door;
She begged the Lord of mercy, even if she wasn't the one wrong.
Her frail body was thrown aside, as they rushed into the room;
She closed her dead eyes, awaiting her doom.
Throughout the push and pull, she did not utter a word;
For she knew her mistake, of being born as a Girl.
The world has grown around her womb,

The beginning of all beginnings, the onus of creation upon whom.

While it is her whose life slowly ebbs away,

At the hands of the manics and the fools.

Her hands chained, mind refrained,

Tongue tied and body veiled.

Lies be sold, this is your world behold!

Here your prejudices are yours only, but your pride is collectively owned,

Of the family you are born in, and the family of your future,

And the society that allows you to breathe any further.

So don’t you dare, this is a world prepared

By some to define your modesty and others to violate it beyond repair.

Caught between the two, ever so stretched thin,

Striving for approvals when discontent is where you are stuck in.

Rather learn to live in this moratorium of rules,

That pays no heed to your desires, your esteem, your needs or your moods.

Your life has never been yours, a conjugation of time tested judgements,

A world build around everyone’s opinions and your very own helplessness.
Clare Feb 2014
In your anger
you opened your heart.
I saw the picture
you painted of me.
What baseness!
Only recognizable point
is the fullness
of my lips that look
freshly invaded.

Some things never
change, though feelings do.

Feelings change.
Every lub-dub that
disturbs the surface
Shrieks at me - you liar!
You two-faced *****,
Begone! Even Eros dare not
let you be loved again.

A tear or two wash down
the wounds fresh on flesh
Surfacing charred waste
of what you once cherished in me.
Every time you read a story from a man's perspective, i beg you, think about the woman's story. Through ages, they have been muted, or worse, ignored.
Beckie Davies Oct 29
is
my
feminism
measured
by
your
misogyny?

do
you
see
the
patriarchy
that
is
trying
to
escape
me?
escaping the patriarchy
noelle Oct 12
you call women *******,
but men bosses.
you force women to cover up,
but men walk around half naked.
you call us ***** for having ***,
but men are praised for it.
you tell us what to do with our bodies,
but men refuse to do the same to theirs.  
you say it was our fault,
but we never asked to be sexualized.
you say you want a strong man,
but i am a strong woman.

we are equals,
we deserve respect,
we demand more.

we are women,
and we are powerful.
Rebecca Aug 18
A blank page invites opportunity;
searches for a voice.
You fear her words,
so you sculpt her before she finds them.
She does not ease like clay, moulded
with warm, purposeful hands, but
bends; stiff and rigid.

You fold her into something pretty
or delicate or curious.
Only then can you gaze upon each deliberate
crease and see your work is done;
when a paper crane sits upon a dusty
shelf. Pleasant, polite,
quiet – yours.
Akriti Jul 28
The troughs of her wavy hair,
perfectly fitted the grip of his fist.

The more he pulled,
the shorter they grew.

Loved to paint the walls,
with the anything she cooked.

Everyone's got a way to express love,
well not like others his way was a little rough.

He said "I'll love you until I die",
ironically his love was the reason of her demise.
Agusto Ninoy Jul 3
Foolish men
Are foolishly weak
Nothing but foolishness
Cowards but loud to speak

Exposing women and children at birth
Yet, equally afraid of denuding themselves
Such filthy monsters of the earth
Drunken lion fearing a wise bird

Their veins circulated with patriarchy
Clotting their minds, dreaming of Atlas
Lifting the world single-handedly
All while ****** femininity

Foolish men, scared of intelligent women
Foolish men, jealous of energetic juvenile
Alter their egos, heightens their defenses
Make them angry, attack their insecurities
Noemi Jun 5
there is a heavy stillness in the silence
that precedes the words of man
who thinks he is right
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