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.

We tried to be revolutionary,

But even the strongest bird can only fly as high as its cage—

And men hide the key from us,

And only said to stop putting up a fuss.

So even in this age,

We’re the earthquake under the glass ceiling, with contained rage—

Under the ceiling made by men.

But glass doesn’t define when;

Glass eventually will shatter,

After a few more batters.