A Room of her own.

The dark little things that creep from corners,

They hover and cover,

Envelope you up

In air of sulphur

Then whispers begin to occur

They speak and say,

“Poor girl, no place to stay”

In a man’s world

Where will you fit?

Come now take a sip

From the glass of suppression

Sink in its deep aroma

Of self deprecation.

Then the taste grew sweet,

She said, “Another please”

The collared figures stared

How does she dare?

She dared!

Even demons can’t keep her down

For she wears her crown

She’ll let them hover and whisper

Call her a poor figure;

They are nothing.

It might be a “man’s” world

But the fairer sex has unfurled

They will sip your drink of persecution

And they will spit it back in absolution.

There’s a room for her

A room for her to live.

A room for her to grow.

A room that doesn’t choke,

A room of her own.

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