I Think of Women

I think of women,
Ancestors of my sisterhood,
Centuries before my birth,
How they were oppressed and suppressed,
For their sex, race or ideals,

I think of women,
Who struggled with infirmities,
Who were called crazy,
Branded witches or harlots,
For their desire to be independent,

How would I have fared in their eras?

Those stifled out by society,
Those hushed by authority,
Artists and dreamers alike,
Punished for their fight,
Shunned for their light,

Without being heard,
Or expressing emotions,
Without being accepted,
Because they were different,
I am different just as them,

I think of women,
All those who fought for rights,
To be allowed to voice opinions,
To become doctors, soldiers or poets,
To have the choice to marry or not,

All those feverant ladies filled with hope,
Captured by their destiny,
Enslaved to their passions,
And dared to ask for more,
Than what solidarity would permit,

I thank them,

For I may vote,
Wed or take lovers,
I may read and write,
Profess and confess,
Make music,

I may learn and strive,
Rant openly and survive,
Choose to conform or not,
Share my freedoms,
And thoughts,

Their bravery engrained in me,
As though we share the same blood,
The same mother and father,
For we share the same history,
And their gift was this future,

Embedded in who I am,
To openly speak my mind,
To comfort or upset time,
When I experience this free life,
I think of women.