Woman to man
This morning I woke up inside my bed;
But something was wrong, on top of my head.
My long curly locks, had now disappeared;
In shock I touched my cheeks, and felt a beard.
I ran to the mirror, and looked in fear;
As I saw a tall man, begin to appear.
When I looked from side to side, so did he;
Until I realised, that man is me.
“What is going on?” I began to weep;
Instead of my voice, I heard something deep.
I began to think, how my life would change;
Of everything I’d need, to rearrange.
My daily routine, would turn upside down;
As my body is now, a different noun.
No more knots to take out, of my long hair;
No more waxing, shaving and no more Nair.
No more money spent, on skirts, heels, a dress;
No more make-up needed, to impress.
No more fear of walking, outside alone,
No more fear of being, the gender that’s prone,
To horrific violence, in every form;
A world where women dying, is the norm.
Every four hours, a woman is killed;
That’s just in my country, where blood is spilled.
So when I look in the mirror, again;
Suddenly it becomes simple, and plain.
If all women feel safer to be man;
The whole world needs to come up, with a plan.
So that women can feel safe all the time;
And being women, wouldn’t be a crime.