To that girl
who laughs it off when they joke too mean,
sits there smiling like a silent screen.
To that girl
who apologizes just for her shape,
as if being a woman is some kind of mistake.
To that girl
who chuckles louder to drown her rage,
burning inside like a lion in a cage.
To that girl
who still replays what she didn’t say,
haunted by silence every day.
To that girl
who keeps scrubbing skin that holds the trace
of hands that never had a place.
To that girl
who takes the longer street,
just to dodge the eyes she’ll never meet.
To that girl
who answers questions cold and rude,
like strangers earned the right to intrude.
To that girl
who never spoke, not cause she couldn’t,
but ’cause no one ever taught she could.
To that girl
seen like meat in a market stall,
covering curves to avoid it all.
To that girl
whose story’s twisted, told, and sold,
before her own truth could unfold.
To that girl
who keeps adjusting her light,
just so others feel alright.
To that girl
who’s tired of shrinking, fading small,
just to fit inside their wall.
To that girl
who walks with names stuck to her skin,
like battle scars from wars within.
To that girl
fighting daily to be seen,
not as an object—but as a queen.
A woman—
not a toy to use.
A woman—
not a thing to choose.
A woman—
bold, beautiful, free.
A woman—
the kind the blind still see.
A woman—
who walks with royalty there,
cause the love of God whispers, “I’m still here.”
So tell her:
She’s okay.
She’s not to blame.
Those ugly words? They hold no name.
She’s worth more than the stares or shame.
She’s not their game.
She’s not their flame.
She’s fire—
but untouchable, untamed.
Tell her:
God’s love wraps tight like skin,
deeper than the noise outside or within.
Tell her:
She has a voice—
and it’s not too late.
‘Cause silence won’t shield her,
but strength? That’s fate.
So tell her to stand,
stand loud,
stand strong,
‘Cause if she don’t rise,
they’ll think she’s wrong.
But she’s not.
She never was.
She’s woman.
And that’s enough.
-END-
From the table of the "Friendly Poet", Chinonso Achugbu
This is such a rich poem. It speaks to thousands of girls, women or ladies who are fighting silent battles of societal restrictions, perceptions and a kind of injustice for being here.
The writer is a deep thinker and writes from her keen observations of life, the society and the world at large. Beautifully written.
I love this poem. It talks to every girl-child who has ever wondered, slandered, abused, bullied, made to feel small and unimportant, but encouraged to know that God, the Father loves them beyond human capacity.
A well written, soul wrenching and heartfelt poem.