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?