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Women's Day Poem Part 1.
Don't call me imbokodo... I am content in my softness. Don't call me strong
I was never made for your benefit.
My creator took me out of a man's rib close to his heart, to show my strength and grace.
Even though I was taken from a rib
I was made complete.
I am feminine.
I love silkiness of my skin.
My voice pitch,
My delicate little frame.
Even in my chubbiness,
I am still petite in my essence.
Don't call me Imbokodo and expect me to bare the unfair pain you course me on purpose.
You call me strong because I decided to stand through the storm you created.
I get compliments for the way I overlook your silliness.
They say I must hold a knife in its sharpness, while a man handles the safer part
... Sighs...
© NdiphaRod
I was never made for your benefit.
My creator took me out of a man's rib close to his heart, to show my strength and grace.
Even though I was taken from a rib
I was made complete.
I am feminine.
I love silkiness of my skin.
My voice pitch,
My delicate little frame.
Even in my chubbiness,
I am still petite in my essence.
Don't call me Imbokodo and expect me to bare the unfair pain you course me on purpose.
You call me strong because I decided to stand through the storm you created.
I get compliments for the way I overlook your silliness.
They say I must hold a knife in its sharpness, while a man handles the safer part
... Sighs...
© NdiphaRod
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