She is the one, who gives you life,
She is the one whom you expect to become a wife.
She becomes a mother, she is a friend.
She is the one to take care of you till the end.
She sacrifices; she puts herself in pain,
Still she smiles and of course, has to look over all your complaints.
She’s raped, she’s tortured and she’s abused,
Told her she is nothing and will always be used.
She was a sweet baby, when she was born,
But at the age of fourteen, her clothes were muscularly torn.
She was a delicate girl when she became a wife,
And now, all she deals is strife.
She is a human as you and me,
I consider she ought to have the same liberty.
She has the right to live the way she wants,
She has the right to set her soul free.
She thinks twice before she wears a skirt,
Because of those mind that’s full of dirt.
She can’t wear what she wants,
Because of fellow men’s eyes that haunts.
Is this not really very unfair?
Yes of course, it is.
It’s an act of injustice, I solemnly declare.
You are none to judge what she wears,
The figure she carries and the way she combs her hairs.
The beauty of women must be seen in her eyes.
That’s the doorway to her heart and the place where love resides.