The skin she wears

The blood she bleeds

The colour of her hair

The callous on her feet

The scars of living

The lines of faith

The wrinkles of wisdom

The marks on her name

SHE lived.

SHE lives.

SHE is living…

With the sons that she’s bred

With the husbands that she’s tied

With the men that she has laid

With the women she finds a name

With the daughters she’s raised.

SHE is something

SHE is nothing

SHE became everything.


SHE is a being.






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