Why you had to be, shame’s chosen relic
Who sells impudence, swathed in sin?
‘Feminism’, is an art, to evade polemic
By a kind, cocooned, in her brittle skin!
What you deem your poise, is a want thereof
Can you barter it all, with a smile astray!
When vain proves, your pride, in instincts’ playoff
Playing martyr of fate, is your only forte!
A beguiling façade, two breasts, one twat
And nether lips dictate, desires’ discourse
When you know all ways, to skin a cat
Where’s the need, to flog a man’s dead horse!
When mankind learnt to own, womanhood
To shroud her, in lust’s sacrament such
Which lays her bare, more than starkness would
Beyond lies debonair, What She Hides So Much!
© 2017 Vikas Chandra