I wrote this poem a year ago, for each and everyone of you whose worth has been underestimated.
You have been reduced to mere puppetry,
You’ve been told that you’re a subordinate,
That your life is sheer flattery,
For the superiors who decide your fate.
You’ve been told that you’re a burden,
That you are a desire-fulfilling machine,
That people will always shun
you; because that’s what you’ve always been.
You’re told that you’ve been worthless,
And so, you’ll always be,
You’re told that you’re utterly useless,
So you begin to see how they see.
They tell you: “You’re a servant,”
You agree and suppress yourself,
They tell you: “You’re impertinent
if you dare express yourself.”
You’re told: you are too weak and too mild.
In this world you’re either human,
Or a creature worthless and wild,
Which you’re told, the world calls ‘woman’.
But, O Woman!
You are higher than the highest tower,
You’re a slave to none but your Lord!
You are the prettiest flower,
And you are the strongest sword.
O Woman! You are so much more.
O Woman! You are ambition.
The skies are where you soar.
Your dreams will reach fruition.
Just hold on and believe.
Your cover is your weapon and shield,
And through your wounds you will retrieve,
Your position in the battlefield.
You are not an object to be used,
Or a toy for amusement and play.
Yes, you are hurt and bruised,
But heal yourself and say,
Say that you aspire.
Tel them, deep in your heart,
There’s been a sparking, flaming fire,
That will burn the dark apart.
O Woman! Speak up! Tell them!
That you don’t need to be a man,
To become the change that YOU can helm.
Show them that you can!
O Woman! You are you.
Isn’t that enough for pride?
O Woman! You’re such a beautiful hue.
Stay you, and beyond the seas, you shall glide.