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.