Woman, Unbound

Aruna Menon posted under PenMuse-09 Poetry on 2019-07-12



My birth is met with a tired sigh and a tear To the world, I’m a piece of flesh to tear As I grow, my innocent soul feels sore For, my spirit, it is never allowed to soar!  Each day I watch my brother have my fare, It’s not right, it’s not done, it’s not fair! Yet, early on, I learn not to raise my voice; my hopes, I have to raze Jibes  taunts and curses, I’ve heard them all No matter they pierce, as sharp as an awl Smiling, I chart my own destiny’s course, Ignoring the stares and words so coarse Clawing my way to the top, now I stand, Vindicated by my beliefs and my stand, I bleed, I bruise, but conquer and achieve this feat Today the world that shunned, is finally at my feet! ________________________ ________________________