If the only thing bright about a woman is her hair,
Because really, she only has to be as clever as
The clothes she wears.
She just has to know when to show off some skin,
That is, provided, she's naturally thin,
And preferably pouty, with a voice like a child's,
Because mathematic calculations and library
Recitations are not what drive men wild.
And isn't that how she proves she's a winner?
In the number of guys who will pay for her dinner,
And how many times she picks salad as the meal,
And the way she walks away in super high heels.
Because women should have six inches, not six digits , for their figures.
They can be society's dolls.
And validate themselves though barking cat-calls,
Spend mountains of money on products and creams
To let make up and face wash
Bra cups and lip-gloss
Dominate their dreams.
It's alright if they're objectified,
They prefer it that way, it's justified.
Why else would they try so hard for a man's approval?
Or model in nothing for American Apparel?
Who I really am
I am more than my face, my clothes, my gender,
I'm more than some picture on a poster could render
I'm more than what only a mirror could show,
I'm more or less more than most people Know.
See, sometimes I overflow with words,
Like if books could grow wings like birds,
And fly out of me, cuz I can't keep them in.
Because underneath make-up, there's more than just skin. Because women don't need men to give them self-worth. They can think about more than just jewelry and child birth, They shouldn't be embarrassed to sound clever or smart
Or to make more money than their male counterpart. Because it's ok to be pretty,
As long as it's also ok to be witty.
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