She Is Me

These hands don’t feel like mine,

large and rough,

they could be the hands of time,

scarred and calloused,

and no stranger to hard work,

these strong hands of sinew and spirit,

would grab this bright future,

if one could just come near it,

This face doesn’t look like mine,

wild and tame,

all at the same time,

the eyes have hardened,

but the mouth still smiles,

this youthful face,

in which it hides age-old secrets,

She is a tumultuous character,

this brave face,

This body can’t be mine,

hard but soft,

it will always bend and never break,

Scars mar the skin,

displaying what this cruel world can do,

This body is a story,

flesh and bone in all it’s glory,

Who does this strong body belong to?

This can’t be me,

yet here I am,

on my own two feet,

I defiantly stand,

these hands are mine,

this is my body and this is my face,

I have a bright future and I know my place,

I am young,

Yet this spirit is old,

I am a she,

and she is bold,

filled with strength and utmost defiance,

She is exactly where she needs to be,

Come after me world: she is ready.