Being a Woman
Poem by Briana Argarate, Senior, iPreparatory Academy
Poem by Briana Argarate, Senior, iPreparatory Academy
A set of eyes gaze upon me:
Ravenous tiger that craves a taste
For I am an innocent deer that wishes to be free
The steps I have taken in this world remain untraced,
To the opposites who do not understand the emotions on my face.
Ravenous tiger that craves a taste
For I am an innocent deer that wishes to be free
The steps I have taken in this world remain untraced,
To the opposites who do not understand the emotions on my face.
Oppression, disgust, anger is all I feel
Exploding with these powers and abilities my ancestors
Were encouraged to conceal.
It is better to touch a broom, or a pot, or a pan, or
Rather than a book that makes my mind soar.
Exploding with these powers and abilities my ancestors
Were encouraged to conceal.
It is better to touch a broom, or a pot, or a pan, or
Rather than a book that makes my mind soar.
I can still hear the footsteps of my mother
Rummaging around the house making sure all is clean
Before husband gets home to make one request after another
Just as he did for the past eighteen
Years of my life teaching the younger ones it is okay
To make my mother feel this way.
Rummaging around the house making sure all is clean
Before husband gets home to make one request after another
Just as he did for the past eighteen
Years of my life teaching the younger ones it is okay
To make my mother feel this way.
Home, work, cook, clean is all she was told to do
Nothing new to me, for if I wasn’t any smarter
I would have begun to do that too.
Locked up in a cage classified as “home”
She hid her passions deep inside her,
For she had a husband but her hidden abilities made her feel alone.
Nothing new to me, for if I wasn’t any smarter
I would have begun to do that too.
Locked up in a cage classified as “home”
She hid her passions deep inside her,
For she had a husband but her hidden abilities made her feel alone.
Pity, anger, disappointment is all I feel
For it is strange that a man who has lived his whole life cannot grasp
The oppression that a simple eighteen-year old knows is real.
Mom, you need to let go and let your voice be heard
I repeat, and repeat, and repeat
Yet she covers her ears as if I just said a curse word.
For it is strange that a man who has lived his whole life cannot grasp
The oppression that a simple eighteen-year old knows is real.
Mom, you need to let go and let your voice be heard
I repeat, and repeat, and repeat
Yet she covers her ears as if I just said a curse word.
Drained, tired, and exhausted is how I feel
Of being objectified for what I behold.
For I am a woman, a daughter, a future mother,
And I refuse to let another
Man, or anyone, barge into my life to tell me what I can or cannot do.
Of being objectified for what I behold.
For I am a woman, a daughter, a future mother,
And I refuse to let another
Man, or anyone, barge into my life to tell me what I can or cannot do.
Banner Source:
Tessais, "First Day of Women History Month"