I am a woman.

That1_13yrold_writer

I am a woman, my body is the "only" thing that is heard.

The sway of my hips rings in your ears like the violent cries of an injured bird.

I am a woman, my body is the "only" thing that matters

Its hypnotism "makes" you commit unwelcomed actions, those of a mad hatter.

I am a woman, my body is the "only" thing seen.

My curves are calling your name, and it's my fault your thoughts are obscene.

I am a woman, my body "lives" for you.

All I have to do is share it with you, and love I shall accrue.

Yes, I am a woman, but you are my birth.

I gave you your eyes, and I gifted you this Earth.

I am a Woman, and I made you from me.

I am your creator, and I will teach you the narrative of my worth until all Women are free.

 

  • Author: That1_13yrold_writer (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 12th, 2023 22:07
  • Comment from author about the poem: As a young woman, I am taken anything but seriously. Please read until the end before you judge it.
  • Category: Sociopolitical
  • Views: 14
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek, Rocky Lagou
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments3

  • Doggerel Dave

    Still here? That's good.

  • L. B. Mek

    more power to you! sister
    such self-empowering affirmations
    are the bedrocks of wisdom's visionary realisations
    I hope you find and seize that freedom you seek
    in your personal life..
    as write's like yours are a bastion
    of Maya Angelou's torch
    and a bridge to all who came before and after her
    for all future generations to realise
    there is a deeply rooted wrongness in our world
    manifested, foremost
    in that spineless generalisation
    of girls and lady's
    being attributed worth, mostly
    by their aesthetic attributes
    or perversely, being resented
    for daring to aspire, beyond
    societies limitations..
    (first came man, then came subjugation
    all else in humanity's annals
    is a repetition
    of senseless might, making right)
    boys, worshiping their own mother's
    while belittling their children's mothers
    at every opportunity...
    before
    they/we burned witches alive
    they/we scalped hope from a lady's breath
    till all was left were ashen heart's bereft of dreams..
    but
    like all tide's of change
    modernity's winds are rife with Gaia's wrath
    and although
    nothing can make amends
    for history's millennia of injustice
    that we can dream and fathom a future
    where, being a lady
    equates to being a person
    first and foremost
    before, anything else is observed
    (like it has for every man
    privileged
    with an existence, devoid
    of threat
    for merely being, a man)
    is a wonderfully hopeful note
    to this inherited debacle of atrocious inhumanity
    (sing your Truth, loud and proud!)
    my words would mean more if I was woman and could relate directly
    still, for those cherished ladies in my life I empathise with
    and the truth of their cause, I do so laud the power of your words

  • Rocky Lagou

    If poetry were a gun, you've just shot a bullet that reverberates to all generations. Amen.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.