They teach us to weave our fingers

To create intricate patterns in our hair.

To adorn the onlooker’s eyes.

Creating superficial monsters,

Policed by superficial consumers.

 

To sit with poise and remain silent.

To make them look good,

While also expecting us to look good ourselves.

Never once teaching us to speak up,

Never once asking out opinion.

 

They teach us what angle we look best as

To smile and look pretty.

It’s hard to speak while smiling.

To obey the rules and never question.

It’s time to speak.

 

Time to separate our teeth,

To reveal what prowls behind our smiles.

The smiles painted on by others.

To seek those opportunities on the other side of our forced grins,

The ones we were never told of.

 

Privilege, a word many don’t know the meaning of.

Yet another epitome of unequal distribution.

Something that’s dictated by what rests between our legs.  

An appendage that gives someone benefits.

 

Cooperation, a necessity,

One that is never taken seriously.

Privilege, given to some,

But-

Deserved by all.

It’s time to speak.