Evolution of a Woman

By the age of six or seven
We know
The power rests not
In our hands
It is a male thing
We are conditioned
By then
To the reality
That for the most part
Our destiny lies
Not with ourselves
But those we pursue

At fifteen or sixteen years
We talk
Among ourselves and
Generally
Believe that sex sounds
Pretty Disgusting
Even though we
Feel stirrings of need
At this point
In life
It all seems like
Submission
In lieu of power

Henceforth usually
A union forms
For many an enslavement
Of sorts
Careers put on hold
For the sake of children
Domestic service
Sometimes leads to
Domestic violence
Love and sex
Can be
The end all
The be all of our existence.

Along comes middle age
We discover
So much about
Ourselves
Wanting the love
Wanting the power
Is now secondary
Knowing who we are
Who we have become
Is first priority
The need to submit
Is replaced with
The need to rebel
Then the finality
It comes to us
Offering now
Freedom
To be who we are
To be true to ourselves
To finally accept
Our just dessert and
Love.


Sally Mour

 

     Growing up by the shores of the Atlantic Ocean just eighteen miles from New York City the author, Sally Mour began seriously writing at the ripe old age of ten years old. While her first love was journalism, the difficulty of breaking into that field opened other opportunities. In a short period of time, Poetry surfaced as her one true love. Now older then dirt, she resides bi-coastally between California and Michigan. While playing part time computer consultant, she never leaves the love of the written word.
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