What would this life if woman free, be for someone such as me?
Bereft of love, warmth and joy, that have all stood close since I was a boy. Soft to touch, soft to hear, soft upon a listening ear. Words to calm, words so sweet that quell that anger hid so deep.
Not always did I heed their words. Choosing my own instead of those, who knew more of this cruel life than men; who know only of pain suffering and strife.
Men are cruel. War they bring, on the heads of everything. Whilst women soothe away the pain, that has been caused for such little gain.
Men shout loud with intent of fear, whilst women sing of beauty so deep and dear. Songs of love, passion and joy that I have had since a boy.
I wish I’d listened more to them, than fought the battles that I’ve been in. Then perhaps I would not ache in so much pain and with such compliant.