A Nation can rise no higher than it’s woman.
But all our women are laying down.
Being abused and kicked around.
Broken spirits and naked souls.
This is not the way it’s suppose to go.
Society has our women wrapped around her fingers.
All we’re good for is getting naked and becoming singers.
Entertaining them like puppets,
Dangling from strings.
But see, I’ve been introduced to a world where men respect you.
Open your doors and wouldn’t neglect you.
Call you Queen and wouldn’t force to sex you.
My wardrobe is nothing but the modest.
I’m a natural born goddess.
I cover my hair but not my brain.
Being wrapped in this hijab keeps me sane.
I am a woman of God.
My shadow speaks a million words.

Poem by Jamyshia

Inspired by my beautiful Queens. Ramadan Mubarak!!!