You talk of respect, of women’s worth,
But your actions crumble, exposing their dearth.
You judge me for not smoking or watching your shows,
Yet you pull me in, saying “This is how love grows.”
You preach that physical touch is just a need,
But whisper of love while planting your seed.
Then, when I don’t fit your scripted mould,
You call me crazy, defiant, and bold.
You flaunt your money, your hollow crown,
Demanding respect, expecting me to bow down.
With fake wisdom and spiritual lies,
You twist the truth to suit your guise.
Your kingdom is false, your throne so weak,
Built on control, deceit, and critique.
You claim it’s trust when you take my voice,
Yet scorn my freedom, deny my choice.
You boast of knowledge, of paths so pure,
But your wisdom is shallow, your intentions, unsure.
You force your ideals to make me please,
But I won’t be shaped by your hypocrisies.
I’ve read on my own, sought truths unseen,
Not the shallow lies in your daydreamed scene.
I’m not your puppet, your perfect queen,
I won’t fit your image, won't play your routine.
I’ll define my womanhood on my own terms,
Beyond your judgments, beyond your norms.
For I am more than the rules you set,
A force of my own, don’t you forget.
~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse
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