Clueless Ink

We live in a land

where walking is not free,

where safety rides on the company we keep

or the shadow of a family driver,

tried and tested with years of no sleep.

–

My fellow women,

our safety is bought with money,

our freedom bartered for fear,

while harassment roams

freely.

–

Now, years later,

I sing when I wanted to shout,

because subtlety is our route.

Today, in my voice, beautiful and loud,

quietly burning with anger, yet a poised shout

–

“From dreams to dust,

came the dawn.

From chains to courage,

from freedom to fear.

–

Roaming the streets,

head held high,

with a shadow of fear,

bearing the cost of existing,

freely,

With some tears.”