our pyjamas have witnessed the wars
no swords could have.
Unsung triumphs of pain and love
flush behind our cotton of dignity.
Years ago it was tremendous,
those adolescent cramps killed.
Now it's the part of our divine power
to bring lives and restrain pain.
Even the gods have forbidden us,
maybe the goddesses understand,
We aren't impure, not contaminated,
We are the warriors of light
and we bleed a beautiful red.
YOU ARE READING
We Bleed Beauty
PoetryWhen all are interested more about those suspense stories, I'm here with a poetry that deals with a very intimate topic which is a taboo in most areas. It's a micro-poetry about the problems we women face and why we still are brave, bold and beauti...
