Benediction
for Women
The distressing world by the
omnipresent,
The shy and the noble scent,
The mere population suffering the
most,
That are humiliated and taken up as
just a housing host,
That bears up all exigencies and
pain,
That are churned and thrown,
Are they the cane?
They exudate of the fear of lone,
They grind their lives,
Are they the stone?
The women creed, dying before
birth,
Just the creatures want a persuasive
male Earth.
They serve as a mother, a sister
and a wife.
But perplexing is that
Are they just born to use a knife?
The female yearn for some respect
and love,
That they sacrifice at times,
Are they the dove?
They just can’t rise up to speak,
They try saving themselves of a
strangers lick.
But the juncture has to arrive,
The world has to become a hive.
They who yet contemplate of women
as the second rates,
Have to fondle up their mind
states.
Women are not just born for the
plates,
They can rise up above all the
human fates.
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