muscles shrink
skin wrinkles
no more
no more
the shackles
the bloody
four walled
enclosure
the cheeks
wet with
with tears
the heart
drenched in
dread
but sweat
like silver
shines on
and adorns
those no-more
meek shoulders
cries unheared
robbed and raped
no more
no more
she stands
the sun
and skin
turns tawny
out on
the streets
she sells
her body
her flesh
her love and labour
a voice
that speaks
shouts for
herself
not an enigma
not a charisma
but a woman
who runs the world
like a cart wheel
i donot rememeber which one....but on some internatioanl women's day...i saw some program on the tv...which inspired this poem....
2 comments:
:( ... -:x .... :) ... nice ...
dint get ya emoticons right...
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