From birth, we face criticism's sting
For being girls, a never-ending ring
Growing up, we navigate a world of pain
Where boys' comments cut deep, and teachers' touches remain

In silence, we suffer, unable to share
Our fears, our shame, our secret scars
Where is our safe haven, our refuge from the storm?
Not even in the womb, it seems, are we safe from harm

Those bearded boys, with promises so bright
Fake and cruel, seeking only pleasure's sight
Their abuse, a weight we cannot define
But still, we rise, and our voices entwine

Remembering our mothers' words of might
"We are not weak, we are strong, we are light"
With every fiber, we push back against the night
And kick hard against the culprits, shining with all our light

Why must we suffer abuse, and the criticism that follows?
Why do they forget they were born of mothers, nurtured by sisters?
Why is this the story of every girl, living in fear, hiding behind a mask?
Enough! We want to fly, to soar so high that no one can bring us down
No criticism, no abuse, and no control can clip our wings, we are free, and we are strong.

.    .    .