CLAY-LIKE WOMANHOOD (IS SHE MERE CLAY? )
CLAY-LIKE WOMANHOOD (IS SHE MERE CLAY? )2 mins 163 2 mins 163
I am born into a world that society gave birth,
To live a lifetime as men imagined for me.
My thoughts are mere clay in his hands,
The frame that forms me is designed by him.
No choice to pick a life that I dream of.
I am a woman, having breath, dreams and a soul as you have.
I don't fight for I just need to be respected.
I don't weep for a luxurious life that you can't afford,
But the security my family provided me even in their struggles.
I don't crave any privilege other than decent womanhood.
The caring eyes anxiously await my nubile age
To entrust me to the keep of the safest hands.
I must leave my beloved world of unforgettable memories
And step into a new world I never knew,
Like a lamb led into the den of a lion.
Who injected him with the sense of superiority?
It's you who made the society think without a reason,
That we are incapable, destined to submit.
Education may renew a few hearts, but not a world.
Things shall not be different until the last man is changed.
Do you ever pay to be a slave, an inferior? I do.
Years have gone and customs and traditions changed for good,
Except for us, the feeble creation of a mighty God.
How pity, even the literate world thinks
We are just equals, yet not equal!
Who can uplift me, help me dream big;
To break the shackles on my feet,
And to shatter the walls you built around me?
Alas! Who can make a change in our fragile
Where the books and knowledge have pathetically failed?
Everything you made and trained is pretty much the same.
The framework that the ages have made for us
Must be shattered to pieces forever.
Set us free to fly into our own world
To celebrate our womanhood with no restrictions.