AnOther Legacy
Angela left her diaries,
Chandara left her silence,
Women’s voices reverberated
Down the throes of Existence.
Clashes, smashes, gnashes
Could still pull a wallpaper down,
Violence saw many faces
Of many kinds and shapes,
Yet the common strain
Is wreaking of suffering, a pain.
Time has ushered in a fresh
Century through the ghastly sieve
But the legacy continues
We, women do believe.
The pen spills the pain
All over the virgin papers,
It comes handed down, heirloom
So does the woman’s mind,
from yesteryears.