To women…

To women birthed from soils their mothers walked on.
Clothed with extra layers of skin from the skirmish of women before them,
Just so they could walk through the storm that drowned their grandmothers.
From broken skeletons of women that fought battles they will never hear about, learn about or be proud of.
From torn history the world stole from them.
Erased stories
A little spice
A lot of anger…Rage
Rough around the edges
They were born ready!
Like petals,
The only survival mode they inherited was to bloom and blossom,
Just like the sun kisses the earth goodnight to introduce the night,
They had to be light!
They had be whole with parts of their ancestors breathing inside them.
They had to be women.
Walking history pages.
Bold inks finishing stories started by the shes before them.
They had to be this for the past, themselves and the future.
I write to women;
“Broken down and tired…on a merry go round”
I write to women still learning to love and be loved.
Those loving parts of them labeled ugly…unaccepted…dirty.
To women who stay up late,
Make their way to cold bathroom floors,
Crying over men that never deserved their being.
Drowning in regret.
Questioning their worth.
I also write to women that don’t have these bathroom floors.
Those that have to shoulder the pain,
Administer the worn,
And smile through the hurt their hearts can’t contain.
I write to women fighting monsters that creep in late at night to take them on adventures they never thought would come in this soon.
Those whose arms have grown numb from fighting.
Whose throats ache from screams submerged in silence.
Those whose monsters live very close to home.
I write to women still walking back to their last smile.
Who have forgotten what it means to close your eyes and paint beautiful dreams.
What it feels like to be whole…to be happy.
I write to women who have set themselves on fire as lucent to their rebirth.
I write to women who wear their scars openly as trademarks from won battles.
I write to women living.
Loving.
Laughing.
I write to women breathing.
Those whose only thoughts live in what they are made of and made for…to rise!
I write to women living scripts far from my reach.
I write to women defying.
Dismantling.
Re-writing.
I write to women growing out of gutters women before them were shoved in
Building bridges.
Preparing for their take off.
I write to women whole.
I write to my generation.
This generation of women!

Isatou-68

Poetry Uncategorized

26 Comments Leave a comment

  1. This is one of the most beautiful poems I have ever read about women. Thanks Elizabeth, for pushing the cause of Women’s Empowerment and Gender Equality. You’re a gem.❤❤❤

    Like

  2. This is the 3rd time am reading this piece and every time I do, it feels new thank you 🙏🏽 this is amazing.❤️❤️❤️

    Like

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