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Poem: More than a pretty face

By: Linda M. Crate 


are not your broodmares,
just like you don’t
neither do we
so knock us off your pedestals
we’re not paintings
to hang in your art gallery—
“do you want to go
out?” you asked;
no, i most certainly do not
all i want to do is to
go home without being harassed—
i have a right to walk home without
listening to your voice or
being hit on;
you are a stranger,
and i don’t talk to them—
i have a right to walk down the
sidewalk and not have
to inwardly groan
when i see you and your dog
yet again;
mother said to take it as a compliment,
but how can i?
when it’s against everything i am;
i am more than a pretty face!
there’s a heart beating in my chest,
a fiery passion in my blood;
i have talents and inspirations and a
soul that breathes—
just because i’m alive
doesn’t mean i want to be objectified,
if anything it means i want someone
to appreciate the whole of me
not to simply see my
beauty and covet it as theirs.


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