Do you believe in your strength?
doing your best to be everyone
Mother, daughter, wife
cook, cleaner, companion
putting on apron after apron but
never having time to dirty your hands.
A revolving door of weak, disappointing men
men who don’t pick you up from the airport
or pick up after themselves
those who demand recognition for chores
while you silently scrub the stove.
You’ve become the saddest slaughterhouse
a pair of hands, a mind to boggle
he asked for your opinion,
took it to the office, but still to his colleagues you are
boardroom businessman and wife.
May your tears turn to windshield raindrops
your daughters and nieces chase
for the rest of their lives.
May you be a maternal role model
of every girl’s massive mind.
May your apron be smeared by the tears of all the narrow men
who never believed in the strength
you always knew you possessed.