What do we see and hear on international women’s day year after year?
The rich and famous, the influential and powerful
Telling us we’re bold and we’re fierce.
Instilling in us that we can be
Exactly who we want to be,
As long as it fits into the box
Of the feminist prescribed lot.
Ditching their clothes and exposing their bodies
Speaking filth, lies and profanities.
Their wigs and hair pieces masking the realities
Of their reworked faces covered in paint
Completely filled with bitter hate
Literally falsely making up
What woman is meant to be.
Ditch the bra! Defile the bed! Destroy the baby!
No Modesty, No self control, No care or responsibility
Be damned with anything or anyone who gets in your way and rise to become
Woman, made by woman.
After all this is who we’re meant to be,
The feminist reality.
Or is it?
Do we have to be complicit?
Isn’t it ironic that there’s a 4000% rise in girls who want to become men?
Isn’t it ironic that the feminist ideal is despised by our daughters?
So much so, that they will go, under the knife to take off the very things they’re meant to flaunt
And cut out the very thing that gives life,
To become the very thing they’re meant to despise.
Hear me roar is their cry!
Stop the noise is my reply.
We don’t have to be complicit!
Let’s speak from our mouths whispered truths that reveal hearts engraved from above.
Let’s peel of the makeup and discard the wigs that we use to deceive those we love.
Let’s conceal the things that aren’t meant to be seen to reveal what should have always been
A subservient will that’s accepting of all that we’re unworthy of.
Let’s feel what’s revealed behind the eyes that bare the faithful soul
And let’s look upon the furrowed face,
Whose warmth and character we embrace
Desiring to make us whole.
Created to help, to support, to bolster,
Not only our men but our children we shoulder,
Endowed to nurture to teach to encourage
To enable and give flight to her own and to others,
To be generous and kind and gracious and wise,
To be strong in her faith and have a sober mind,
Adorned with good works, with her worth being found
In compassion and joy and comfort that abound.
With a spirit that’s quiet and kind,
And a hope that is surely defined,
Reflecting the love of her creator
Accepting the way He has made her.
Marcia Neat
