Mama, Am I a Woman Yet?

My mother told me,

Only big girls wear lipstick,

 

Five years old,

And her red one,

Is smeared all over my mouth,

Mama, am I a woman yet?

 

My sister told me,

I would change,

 

Eleven years old

And I feel it happening,

See it in the mirror,

Mama, am I a woman yet?

 

Daddy told me,

To be careful when I go out now,

 

Thirteen years old,

And men watch me on streets,

And though I don’t know why,

Mama, am I a woman yet?

 

The other girls told me,

Love is a part of growing up,

 

Fifteen years old,

And a boy in class,

Looks so cute,

Mama, am I a woman yet?

 

My friends told me,

Heartbreak made you wiser

 

Sixteen years old,

And crying,

Because he likes someone else,

Mama, am I a woman yet?

 

The boys say,

I’m not pretty enough,

 

Eighteen years old,

And too much make up,

And tight clothes that aren’t mine,

Mama, am I woman yet?

 

Men say,

I know nothing of the world,

 

Twenty-one,

And I hear the words they use about us girls,

And it makes me sick inside

Mama, am I a woman yet?

 

He says,

Until I trust, I’ll never know,

 

Twenty-five,

He left me,

Promises unfulfilled

Mama, am I a woman yet?

 

Today I said,

I don’t care what they say,

 

And Mama says,

Smiling at me,

With her red lipsticked mouth,

Baby, you’re a woman now.

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About saharsalman

Aspiring poet. Spectator of life. Words of Whim.
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