PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

They tell me I’m a woman now,

To speak softly and comb my hair.

But the age of debutantes has died;

I had no parties and taffeta gowns.



Welcoming me to womanhood

Was a box of tampons

(But we shouldn’t speak of that!)

And a strip of rainbow-colored condoms.



They wanted me to loathe my body,

To restrain and hide my generous breasts,

To conceal my curves under loose polyester.



They taught me the feminine graces -

Lie on my back, carry his children,

Laugh at his jokes, make his sandwiches.



Is that all I’m meant to be?

A paper doll,

Ornamental toy,

Forever smiling through my silent servitude?



They tell me I’m a woman now,

But my hair’s unruly waves inspire unruly ways,

Forever flying where they please,

Dancing lightly in the summer breeze.



I refuse to comb and bind my hair

Or hide my body under layers of shame.

I am female, proud child of the changing moon,

Everlasting image of Athena and Artemis.



I am not afraid of my breasts

And I will speak of tampons whenever I please.