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
-me,
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?
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