Not All Women Are Pink
Not All Women Are Pink
Not all skies are blue
But the crimson ones studded with stars
That whisper into galaxies that surpass
Are too breathtaking to be true
The little arrow at the end of the circle and the line
Despite how different from a dash it may seem
Doesn't point to a different dream
The million eyes staring at her cascade
Unaware of what a woman is made
Pondering deeply if the atoms that make her
Are different from those that make a man
They stare at her iridescent eyes and porcelain skin
But fail to see what lies within
Behind every pair of kohl filled eyes
Lie meadows of the most luscious red
Brimming with stagnant winds of fear and dread
Behind every pair of "poetic" lips
Are a million words they've been longing to frame
Yearning to see them swivel into a rosy ellipse
Instead they smile and shrug them away
Every "fragile" heart throbs with agony
Beating to the absolute of its vitality
Even as it bleeds and tears
Behind every trivial apology she mouths
Behind the innumerable ingenious smiles she's recast
The glamorous bottles on her cabinet ebbing with tears
Antiques of pain she's collected over the years
Is a silent wish for it to be the last
Behind every pair of closed, dreaming eyes
Is a prayer for a different life
For her heels to never touch the ground
So she will no longer be looked down on
For shoulders made of a stronger frame
That won't bend with all the pain
For a voice that won't ever stop singing
An insincere request to make the whole world blind
A plead to make her deaf to the chilly noise
And she proceeds to pray with the greatest poise
Because God would fathom.
God would understand
For She Herself will know
That not all women are pink.