-by Hena
Farooq
Her
long, thick, shiny black hair
Fell
against her back.
Her
rich, copper skin
Gleamed
in the sunlight.
Her
slender figure outlined,
With her
soft voluptuous curves.
But when
she stepped outside,
She
became a ghostly figure of the night.
Nothing
more to the people
Than a
dark, shadowy figure of oppression.
But she
showed them.
As she
walked down the street,
People
made way,
Men
lowered their gazes in utmost respect.
And
others whispered,
As she
held her head up high,
With
pride in her belief
And
showed them how oppressed she really was!
While
they whistled at their women,
Looking
them up and down as they were pieces of meat to be inspected?
She
pitied their savage ways.
As she
walked into the arms of her partner,
Her only
love,
Her
husband.
Where
she was transformed,
Into her
beautiful self,
For only
his eyes to see.