When I let my sleeves fall away...
And impose my shoulder upon unsuspecting boys,
I must be sent away and punished.
For I was not only careless,
When my skirt flaunts my legs,
Instead of covering them,
I must run my fingers down my thighs,
In front of a group of male judges.
So that they can tell me,
That I am not just thoughtless,
But deviously malicious.
When my lipstick is cherry red.
Instead of a dim mahogany,
I must hide my face away.
For it is not only improper,
But shamelessly hazardous.
When I object to being treated like a thing,
Instead of silently giving way,
I am not standing up for myself...
Or furthering a cause,
I am being "difficult,"
And I need to "calm down."
For my intent is clear,
Each time I am stopped and frisked.
Based on attire and dress,
I prove myself to be a weapon,
Designed to kill.
But when a man puts his hands on me,
When his actions turn,
Violent instead of friendly,
He is just caught up
"in the moment."
He is not abusing me,
He is teaching me a lesson.