Have you seen the changes,
In an expectant mother?
Going through that isn’t easy,
Yet, women are called weak.
The one who can birth a human,
Enduring the pain with grit,
Can’t that be termed being strong?
Yet, women are called weak.
Traversing the dangers,
Both lurking and clear,
Does that look like child’s play?
Yet, women are called weak.
Being woman means being strong,
Yet, if someone calls us weak,
Aye woman, Laugh at their idiocracy,
And march forward with heads held high.
By Kirti V
Kirti, a teacher by profession and a poet by passion is a multilinguist, a voracious reader and an orator. She has authored three solo poetry books (Tides of Life, From My Pen and Poetic Pearls) and has contributed to around 50+ anthologies. Her works can be read from www.kirtisignature.com and she can be reached at kirti.v@gmail.com
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