Her roses were blue

The girl within her

They coloured women with judgements and traditions,
Made them grip handles of kettles,
Taught them to sit still while the world spinned, A broom gripped firmly in one hand and a child in another, 
While men were fed with tales from dynasties as old as their withered beliefs,
Carried the names of their families,
Tied to boisterous responsibilities,
Learned to count with their fingers,
And did it all while the sun exist loudly,
While mothers, sisters and wives gathered to give these men a round of applause,
While the voices of women were being drowned,
While the girl within a woman perished,
While women were told to respect their husbands,
While their hearts waged a war with their minds,
While their dreams were shattered within the confines of the enclosed, dusty kitchens they were taught to be in from dawn till dusk.
With hallways as narrow as their brothers' exclamations.
Now, don't you dare wreck a woman into pieces,
With your bitter, twisted narrations.
The girl within her is no different.