My actions have become hysterics;
Tantrums thrown by a crazed lady.
My reservations and concerns,
A constant nag in your ears.
If I do seal them in silence,
would my actions echo loud enough?
Will you ear the cries of a heart stunned to tumult?
Would folks give me accolades for being a “good woman”
Or would I simply be called a fool in the 21st century?
If I did smoke it in pot,
would it be substantially hidden in diagrams…
I simply don’t want to be a stereotyped woman!
I hear my cries in echoes loud as the market on a Saturday,
I see your ears turned 360 degrees away.
Silence has become a solace.
To please you, I will seal it all up
My reservations will be heard
In the pages of lyrics.