Posts
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Enough to Heal, Not Enough to Care
They dine upon marble platters, their feet draped in velvet thread,
While we dwell in the slums, substituting bread with insects instead.
They laugh over champagne, heels clacking on polished stone,
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The Bird That Will Fly
From the beginning of creation,
Women have been underneath the growing nation.
We sat and were forced to watch for decades,
Underneath what men called “the shade.”
But submission is temporary.