ah, they have not changed tracks
the taunts, the jibes, the smirks
the scathing comments, the ugly bickering
-the neighborhood woman’s spiteful words
I shudder, I cringe at the crass cacophony
it reminds me of another woman
hurling those abominable words at fellow women
judging them, berating them for defying traditions
little did I know then the trap patriarchy is
it’s discomfiting, embarrassing to admit the guilt
it’s difficult but I accept my imprudence, my folly.
peeling off the layers of toxicity, bit-by-bit
I aim to get rid of the pernicious misogyny
generations of social conditioning had imbued in me
learning to be empathetic and sensitive,
mindful, aware of the healing power of words
the new woman in me resolves
to write a new book for herself
for her sisters, and the future daughters
a story that posterity wouldn’t be ashamed to hear
when they rewind and replay, the voices should heal.
the path ahead is steep and precarious
falter I may but I will rise and walk again.
Join the march with me, will you?