Does the society know my stand?
I am not with a price tag to be
sold to a man.
I work everyday
till the sky is red, till the earth turns black
and the sound is dead.
My rhyme and my smile
My talk and my travel of miles
My music , my walk , my sleep
and everything that is self- taught.
Worry and sorrow both play
Under my bed every day.
My virginity does not come with a price
Although ,I am criticized
For my success, for my joy
For my muse – oh why?
Do I deserve this world, with a price tag?
The hand that combed my hair
Was not given this rare design.
ME, being a poet is all I dream,
The lion’s prey was me,
My life that flowed like a stream,
Mama! Won’t you help
You are a Woman like me,
You are trapped as the Lion’s prey
I had it my way.