Voice

I am the silenced voice of the past,

the crushed spirit, still fighting to last.

I am the unfathomable agony of raging slur,

my humiliated soul, an existential cur.

I am the repeated mistake, born out of love,

the abomination, pushed away with a shove.

I am an exhibition of those in numerous broken smiles.

The swirling tears that never left the brimming eyes.

I am the formation of right body measures and cheap insults,

A soul full of judgments and obscenities, the final result.

I am not the accused victim, the for bearer of the blame,

Of the crimes I didn't commit, of reproaches and shame.

After years of fighting, to be heard, to be praised,

Still somewhat alone, I stand tall, and not afraid.

Thirsting for the day when I'll get the deserved recognition and power,

I am right here, the woman on the liberal tower.