I am a beauty, with scars and bruises,
A beauty born with countless abuses
I am a woman, who knows the art,
A woman who is sold on kart.

I am a goddess, who is worshipped thoroughly,
A goddess who is beaten regularly
I am a lady, who is dressed beautifully,
A lady with torn clothes that explains her sarcastically.

I am a Queen, crowned and ornamented,
A Queen, with charred lips and eyes, tainted
I am a wife, with a happily married life,
A wife who starts her day with her neck staked to the knife.

I am a mother, with love and limit,
A mother, of many children, illegitimate
I am a pretty face, which enhances my personality,
A pretty face, of marks and blood that shows my serenity.

I am a musical note, so sweet and melodious,
A musical note full of cries and marked exodious
I am someone, who speaks of her,
Just someone, in accordance with her master.

I am scenery, of great heavenly worth,
Scenery manipulating womanly dirt
I am an object, justified with a crown,
An object, to be used and then thrown.

I am a culture, to represent her country,
A culture that is diminishing silently
I am a tradition, a festival to be celebrated,
A tradition that is downwardly upgraded.

I am a society, that inculcates the value,
A society where women, is even less than no- value
I am the Present, that curses her past,
A Present, whose future is nowhere to last.

I am the color of love, care and lot,
The color that falls on the blind spot
I am the daughter; to the parents I am dear,
The daughter, her heart is full of fear.

I am a soul; mighty, powerful and pure,
A soul, whose wounds have no cure,
I am a flower, colorful and lively,
A flower trampled on the ground heavily.

I am a piece of art that is drawn by everyone,
A piece of art that can change no one
I am a paper, to write many scenes,
A paper, scrambled and reduced to pains.

I am a road, travelled very often,
A road broken, leading men to their coffin
I am a commodity, to be bought, sold and fax
A commodity that has no Value added tax.

I am a vision, which is constant every time,
A vision which is no less than a brutal crime
I am a mirror, you observe so thoughtfully,
A mirror whose image is this eventually.


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Martin Elder

Tue 26th Jul 2016 23:16

This is a really great poem, I love the dichotomy here of the states that exist. Fantastic

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