Laede Noan USA A Woman Is What They Call Me A woman is what they call me heart feel as a woman’s heart arise to reflect terms of maturity folds capture physical appearance age set precedence of womanhood, open access snares pasts present of staid joy, wonder, pain, and attitude, grace asks to embellish in carriage A woman exists to be A woman is what they call me untidy, broken brittle finger nails, uncombed hair, scaly feet, aching bones, unkempt clothes, words slur drab and dry, a crooked smile, matted teeth I never recognize as unattractive, society compels to disregard erroneous, I yearn, want better than seen before A woman exists to be A woman is what they call me high society, snobbish, sexy, bossy, fakes phony is of prominent feature genuine befalls privy to linger behind cast away to look down upon different to choose as flair flares expanse to allow I thirst the best, wish for and to be loved somewhere misplaced are mettles to care A woman exists to be A woman is what they call me where the inner child’s present delicate nature of soft splendors of souls evident in commitments martyr corrupts to declare belief itinerary claims value in survival passion rise above to the surface compassion excite, come to life I never learned to cook I never learned of appeal I never learned to manage I never learned of proper I never learned of prudish I never learned of perfume I never learned of toiletries, of long hot bubble baths I never learned of obstacle I am a woman never learned Declaration of womanhood announce primal existence, by design I captivate, titillate enthrall men, come share my interests, become part of my life, forbear shallow with substance A woman is what they call me A woman exists to be Copyright, Laede Noan.
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