They call it equality, yet chain us tight,
Criticizing every move, every step in the light.
“What’s with that dress? Why’re you out at night?”
Their questions are bullets, aimed to fright.
We’re told to stay small, to watch how we dress,
Cover up, hide away, or we’ll cause a mess.
But when we’re hurt, they never ask why—
Only what we wore, and how high the sky.
They’ve trained us to bow, to stay in line,
To think that silence is somehow fine.
“Be grateful for this,” they demand with pride,
But we know damn well—they’ve lied.
We deserve more than a life on strings,
More than their twisted offerings.
This isn’t freedom, it’s a cage we’re in—
And we’ll break it, no matter their sin.
