December 3, 2021
Oh! Please tell us no more, the scars are visible from afar
For we know we are not Angels, but why is our world so ardiou?
At the crow of dawn, with our bandos around our waist, we engage our calabash,
We tend to or offspring, we fetch firewood,
We pound the new rice, every empty mouth is fed before the dew disappear, so why our hearts are left to sore,
Why our tears overflow the rivers?
Men, they say, are demons that are very very wise
No, we beg to differ, they help carry our dreams, our hope
An experience has taught us, that we need no advice
None will dare tell us how to be wise
For we call them disguise
We are mothers and not murderers
Our worlds we build in our minds, with one gender
We are billions with beautiful hearts.
But you! You! You! Want to set us apart
We are children that needs to be loved
Our pride are bruised with no remorse
We were willing we came when you call
But why do you hate us that much that you want us to fall
But firmly we will stand
This poem is done by Elizabeth A. Kaine in solidarity with all the women and girls that have been sexually, physically and mentally assaulted