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Below The Belt

 


Are you proud of yourself,

Boasting how you hit a girl below the belt?

What’s the point of worshipping a Goddess

If you mock the very organs that give life?

And you think a woman’s respect

Hinges on how much you earn?

Is that the height of your manhood—

Your so-called intelligence?

Were you just a naive child,

Or a man who never grew a spine?

Would you enjoy being groped,

A hand shoved between your thighs,

And someone paraded as if they tasted

The nectar of eternal life?

Is this your legacy?

A world where reverence turns to hypocrisy,

And silence shields the guilty?

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