In shadowed moments, where trust should reside, A careless hand, a selfish tide. No thought for the fragile, the risk they impose, Just fleeting pleasure, as a woman\'s fear grows.
If more of you took care over our safety, We would bleed for you all emotionally! You would be respected as partners and equals, Even though it took you to get here a whole pre-qual.
You say men feel too, a claim often made, But for women, it\'s physical, a price often paid. It\'s mental, the worry that gnaws through the night, It\'s emotional, the dimming of inner light. It\'s torture beyond your wildest nightmare, this burden we bear, The weight of potential, the silent despair.
But then there are hands that choose a different way, That shield and protect, come what may. Accountability etched in each thoughtful deed, A promise of safety, a planting of seed.
These are the men who listen, who understand the cost, Whose respect is a haven, where fear is not lost, But gently released, like a bird taking flight, In the shared embrace of a future that\'s bright.
Your stance was declared, in moments so stark, Yet the weight of your choices leaves its permanent mark. Yes, the consequences of actions you sow, Appear not to touch you, no burden you know.
As we sit with our pain and it lights up our sky, We sit in the fire and burn it bright, There is no level way to even the score, We are sat at the centre, but you can hardly hear it roar.