She walks the streets, head held low,
Not by choice, but fear they sow.
Eyes that follow, hands that grab,
A life defined by each sharp stab.

They tell her to smile, to stay in line,
Her dreams dismissed, "Wait for your time."
A world designed to keep her down,
She drowns in silence, wears their crown.

For every "No" she tries to say,
A man steps forward, takes her day.
Her voice unheard, her pain unseen,
Her worth is decided by what they deem.

She battles walls built high with lies,
Of what she’s worth through men’s cold eyes.
They tell her body is all she’s worth,
While crushing her soul beneath the earth.

In shadows, whispers, threats that bite,
They strip her power, steal her light.
Yet they forget, in her dark night,
A fire burns, ready to ignite.

She bears the weight of every stare,
The rules, the chains that strip her bare.
But in her chest, a storm does rise,
A cry of rage, a breaking sky.

For every girl denied her name,
For every woman held in shame,
The world may bend, the world may bleed,
But in her pain, she plants the seed.

.    .    .