• sagacious_miss 6w

    Title - If my poem were a woman.

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    Women are a piece of art.
    They say,
    "Keep your body, soul and Everything else pure, sweetheart."
    Little do they know my poem, too, is an art.
    The rhymes try to reconcile the broken pieces of me, that have fallen apart.

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    i) If my poem were a woman, she would have struggled to position itself into that hourglass figure,
    She would have struggled to look like that of perfect size and shape.

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    ii) My poem would have tried hard to conceal.
    Conceal the insecurities, the fears and the miseries, that wet her pillow each night. But she'll be cautious about the slipping bra strap shining under the bright sun light.

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    iii) Poems will shed tears of blood and agony.
    Stocked up Tampons and pads will fill up the room, darkening her heart. For she'll be restrained from entering the literature room.

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    iv) Racism would have haunted my poem. That feeling of suffocation, would have made it a choice to live or to die. Searching for the last hope to breathe and still finding none.

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    v) My poem would have been questioned about it's existence and remained mum. Those dark circles depict the pain which It masked with metaphors also brushed with highlighter like similes.

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    vi) Rapes would have been a threat to her body, just like plagiarism is a threat to poetry.

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    But I'm afriad what if it disappears all of a sudden... into nothingness, into vaccum.

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    © Sagacious_Miss


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