Under Appreciated
Every day,
I fight to be heard.
My thoughts and ideas,
Over shadowed by male pride.
My suggestions and solutions to problems get used,
But only, when they are repeated by a man.
It's as if I am that little voice in their head.
The one they ignore at first.
It is so easy for them to fill my plate,
Expecting the work to get done.
But not acknowledging the work I do.
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