My Little Black Dress,
Causes your head stress..
My quick dance steps,
My working out,
My runs in the big park,
Makes you want to grope me in the dark..
My credit card,
My bank account,
My glass of single Malt,
Is not an invitation for assault.
My coloured brown hair,
Is not meant for your sly glare.
I try hard not to care,
Everytime you look, I feel bare.
It’s no longer what I choose to wear,
Nor will it ever be fair,
Yet I have to handle with care,
Your untimed stare!
Whether I am travelling in a bus to work,
Or driving in a car,
You never stop your practiced stare.
I walk my child in the neighbourhood park,
Or past you at the aisle in the grocery store,
In your head you have to settle an unsaid score.
It was never about what I just wore.
Your shoddy legal clause..
I will not reclaim what is mine,
Nor will I cry or whine,
As I sip my red wine.
I will walk on ahead,
Not with false dread,
I don’t hide within your definition,
Nor live with fear of an unwarranted situation,
You cannot caution,
What you call your version- Of precaution.
You cannot limit me to suit your notion,
Everytime you try to, I will change my definition.