She doesn’t want to be a good woman
a pretty woman, a quiet woman
She doesn’t want praise
for a cross-legged pose
She doesn’t want to speak like a rose
She doesn’t want to giggle when they touch her arm
or when they try and charm
She doesn’t want to run from every alarm
She won’t be scared
and cover-up
She won’t shiver when they say shut up
She sees everything as
She stands
high on self-built land
She is more than just a ring on her hand
and more than her body and beauty
raising children is not just her duty
She is more than a woman
She has torn giving birth
She doesn’t let her body or beauty determine her worth
She is my mother.