Fellowship & Fairydust

They rap about her anatomy like she is just brainless,
lyrics that are shameless, just to get famous.
Making money through the degradation of a woman who is nameless.
Commercialising and monetising
Those same body parts that made them.

She is just a piece of plastic
until she’s no longer attractive.
Disposable, tossed to the trash once her beauty desists.
A morsel of meat to be devoured, not to exist.

Those black and blue scars don’t reveal the pain or abuse,
she hides behind a fake smile, for those Instagram views.
Beauty is a term so greatly misconstrued,
judged by how you look and to the extent which you’re nude.

Obsessed with what’s outside, they made her forget her within;
she’s lost sight of her heart, to beautify her skin.
A picture-perfect image, just like the front of a magazine;
not realising her worth is much more than a social media screen.

She’s a living, breathing human being,
not a mass media, money-making machine.
How do we make her realise how much she really means?

Whatever did happen to those great women of the world?
Fearless and extraordinary untainted pearls.
No need to beg for rights to be respected as a girl.

Once great scholars and academics, who progressed society,
known for their nurturing love and piety.
No compromise in her success, she clung to modesty.
No desperation to be a display piece, to become a prodigy.

Her definition is not by colour, shape or race,
nor the curves of her body, or the contours of her face.
God looks to the richness of her glorious heart;
an adorned soul who makes it her work of art.
To be known as that courageous woman, intelligent, generous, and smart.
Full of hope for humanity, and not a societal spare part.