we give birth to you

In the veil of hair

they cover your face.

Hide the battle scars 

they claim women should not possess.

They wrap you like a caterpillar cocoon

but is a jail made of cloth as its truth

They tie your amazing hands 

to avoid dirt, they say.

They coat it with phony compliments

like nail polish that you change so often. 

You are kept in the dark

and they lie that it's for the sake of your eyes.

Then they trick you to save your voice

when the only thing that needs saving

is their idiot minds that are almost rotten. 

They make us means of entertainment

but we laugh at their fragile egos

especially when they call us sexy and pretty

because there are thousands of adjectives

but they only know two. 

They call you weak because you are soft

but it is actually you that they land in when they fall 

it's your gentleness that they seek for comfort, 

and its the mother's lullaby they used as blankets. 

They call you weak because you cry, 

but isn't bravery to do something the society deems as taboo? 

rather than to hide behind a pretense of strength?