She, her, I.
Call us them,those,they.
Club us as “fairer sex”
Yet, we are the Gen-next.
We walk with you
Talk the same
Our limbs are made of skin and bones
We bleed red all the way.
We struggled each path
Yet, along you made our mark.
In the situation of things
We still “fair” the same.
Who cares who wins?
Wait, you do.
How sad and true.
To know in an age of freedom
Which we won together
Justice is a thin line
And equality a number.
If you are “1” I am “2”
In my eyes I see “0”
When I am not judged by my clothes
Shamed for my words
Killed for my resistance
And “pitied” for I am weaker.
Listen, Oh! Listen
Its for I am weak that makes me strong
For I bruise that I can care
For I bleed that I mend
For I break that I build.
I AM SHE, what are you?
Daughter to a father
Daughter to my mother
Sister to my siblings
Wife to my husband
Mother to my children
Grandmother to my brood.
I play the “roles” as equal to yours
Turn not and think me meek
An identity MADE by ME
And I stand as ME.


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