Wrote this for the theme ‘My Generation’, set as a challenge in creative writing. Partly for that, partly because I passed two guys doing some work on the roads and one said to the other ‘yeah, but we’re in an age where women can…’ and I hurried past, and partly cos it’s how I feel.

Enjoy.

We’re in an Age

We’re in an age

We’re of an age

The men say on the street

Where marriage is not sacred and

A woman feels complete

Without a man, her better half.

She’s two halves on her own

And where do we fit into that?

Our duties overthrown

We’re in an age

We’re of an age

The women disagree

Where spinsterhood is ridiculed

And there’s no equality

Where rape is normalised and we

Have no safe haven near

We can’t walk the streets alone, in darkness.

Every footstep whispers fear.

We’re in an age

We’re of an age

The ‘gentlemen’ insist

Where women have the right to put

Their bodies on the list

That we can buy and sell

at leisure

in a world that’s geared

towards our pleasure

We’re in an age

We’re of an age

Sigh women far and wide

where just to wear a low cut top

or take a step outside

is to provoke attack, abuse

from men that think they praise us

– but complement us on our ‘tits’?

It never ceases to amaze us.

We’re in an age

We’re of an age

Where nothing seems to change

Where women are still victimised

And end up with the blame

A time where, when it comes to rights

It’s the poor oppressed men

Who feminism has destroyed

And who must start again

Yes, we’re in an age

We’re of an age

But it’s just like all the rest

No matter how we all despair

And try to protest

There’s a time for equality

The politicians vow

But we’re in an age

We’re of an age

And nothing’s changing now.

And on that note, as ever – Adieu.

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