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Tanisha Chawla Poem
I am the grass
on a windy day,
held back
by its own roots.
i am a horse
with blinders on its eyes,
you use me
to feel powerful.
and i connive
to the fiction
that you are stronger,
better.
because of you
i think about the length of my dress
and nod when they say
i should talk less.
and I accept
the suffering
because I know
you suffer too.
I remember,
you use to like dolls
when you were young
and innocent.
you use to
not cry secretly
away from the eye
like you do now.
then why am I
the only one fighting?
it is not a battle of the sexes,
after all.
so i declare,
I am not powerful like you,
for power is not
domination.
that i am not
the epitome of beauty,
for beauty is not
unrealistic standards.
i am not well mannered
like the aunties,
for manners is not
obedience.
i am, however, a demon
ready to be unleashed,
held back momentarily
by the chains of patriarchy.
Copyright © Tanisha Chawla | Year Posted 2018
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