Being a girl, what is it like? No! You can’t be out late, you can’t ride a bike Don’t party hard, keep the boys at bay You have all the freedom they say But why then are our choices already made? If this continues will my identity fade?
Too many opinions – my mind a chaos, am I in the middle of a sand storm? Is it bad to be different, to be yourself and not follow the norm? Why does everything feel so heavy, am I getting crushed under a rock? I can’t find my way, it’s too dark, am I in a room with no keys for the lock? I can only dream of unfurling and flying, am I a bird restricted to a cage? In reality, everything seems frozen, stuck in the same stage.
Waiting to speak my mind and be heard clearly Waiting for my choices to be taken seriously Waiting for my silent tears to stop falling Waiting for my mind and heart to stop quarrelling Waiting to remove the mask and stop pretending Waiting to stop waiting, adjusting and bending Waiting for this phase to pass and have an ending….
In three forms Two thirds; Still, Not to drink a drop, or two pots for bath. One-third in Coco cola bottle, One-third is in the Cleavage water, Then, we are throwing stones at the well, Waiting for the crow bath;