Father
If you created me to be soft
to be gentle, to be timid
Why does this fire burn in me?
Why does this anger swell in my belly?
Why does my shout pound at my throat?
Father
If you created me to be His half
His companion, His partner
Why does He place his foot on my neck?
Why does He leave me behind?
Why does He insist I have no right?
Father
If my hands where meant to caress
to feed, to clean
Why do they write these battle words?
Why do they insist on pounding on walls?
Why do they ball into fists raised in the air?
Father
Parts of me are so soft
Gentle like birds that drink from your hands
but im hard and calloused in other edges
rough all the way down to bone
when I feel my sandpaper spots
all around my soul
I cant help to think
that you intended for me to end up this way
I, Woman
was built to fight the stronger fight.
Father
in the end I ask you this one question...
Am I your secret weapon?
©Shawtie
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