Sometimes, I wish I were a man,
On a man, suffering doesn’t lay its claim.
He doesn’t live half his life,
With blood, mood swings, and pain.
And I know if I were a man,
I would be permitted to express desire,
I wouldn’t have to pretend,
That I never want with burning fire.
And I love being a woman,
The colours, the expression, the community.
I love being a woman,
But I miss the freedom and the safety.
I imagine if I were a man,
I would sometimes walk alone at night,
Still knowing what “safe” means,
I would not have to be in flight or fight.
Perhaps if I were a man,
No one would tell me what to wear,
No one would tell me to cover up,
No one would bat an eye at my body hair.
I wish I were a man because then,
My anger would be allowed,
I wouldn’t be told to keep my head down,
My voice wouldn’t appear too loud.