Of Woman, By Woman
Her imperfections were made visible each time she craved for simple things Yet, her worth could not be found The feminine spirit in each one One which wasn't recognised before, They've been brewing it up their entire life To be honoured, to be appreciated, to be recognised And today, they say it is simple Today, they say things have changed They've started hiring her to set her free And she struggles with the slight pleasures of her subjection To be able to voice herself out, to matter, to be looked up upon They've said it's a man's world Her ancillary existence getting ignored each time The clutches of chauvinism still wound her Every day, bit by bit Is she really free or is she yet to be?
