Since the day she was born, She was given the Feminine horn. Wounded by the raw scars Still tried to please creatures from Mars. Whipped up by the thinnest swords. Ingrained on that unbearable pain Yet anticipate a smile in vain. We never hear her cries No matter how hard she still tries Rubbing those tears from her sweater tip She holds on to swallow every hard sip
Though no one hears, heaven surely does Silent prayers of crying women, around us.
- Moali Pongen
