A Woman’s Story

I wasn’t born out of love

No I wasn’t.

I was rather a product

Of centuries of abuse

And neglect heaped upon

Not one woman

But millions of them.

I was formed after centuries

Of submission and subjugation

From the silent tears

That rolled over the cheeks

Of not one person

But an entire race

Which waited for eons

To be acknowledged

As the other half.

My history of being burned

In the blacksmith’s fire

Gives me the glow of bronze

and the strength of iron.

Don’t ask me

How I became so?

Just go over your books

And look for pages

That seem absent

And yet are in plain sight

For you to see

And read my story

Which is not just mine

But of million others.

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