Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.144.70.25
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
From the age of 10, we were 
If boys pulled out hair or poked us with pencils
They liked us.
But we didn't like it very much.
We were 13 years old when we would walk down the street
And had men look at us from our face to our feet.
We'd listen as they completely replaced our identity
From human--to object..
Momma always said "If a strange man is followin' you, go to the other side of the street. And if they grab you--Scream."
This was something we had to learn at 13 just because we were young and naive. 
We got our ass slapped in school but it was cool because
 it meant we had nice bodies 
And they rated our bodies 1-10, if you were a 10
you heard whistles and "damn girl!"
But if you were a "damn girl"
You weren't a damn girl at all
You were just a toy labeled "Do whatever you want to, even though I don't agree."
We had to watch what we were because if too much shoulder was showing 
We had to change our clothes because it was distracting the boys from their learning
So the only we were learning were tips and tricks to tie up our shirt so that
It didn't hang too low because that would show the boys we wanted it.
Because wearing shorts and tank tops meant we were flaunting it.
When we were 16, we screamed because the men on the street finally caught up to us
We quietly said "Don't touch me there.." 
But that meant go
We said no
But that meant yes 
So they grabbed us and unzipped our dress
They threw us down where ur dignity sank lower than the ground
They hovered over us as we pleaded for them to stop
They got on top of us and you don't need to know the rest because we're some
Of the 68% of victims that never tell a soul so we'll just grab our dress and go home
We'll take a few showers and try to get some sleep
In the morning, we'll choose an outfit that looks the most discreet
Because we never want another man to look at us and think
We're sweet enough to taste. 
We will sit in the back of class so know one ask how our weekend was
Because if they do, We might just burst into tears
We went from boys poking us
To men provoking us
We went from playing with toys
To being to toys ourselves
So boys will be boys
And us women will never tell...
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required