Head full of bUTTERf LIES

As she rests her head full of lies

Fairy tales once told

And when she grows old

She’ll realise these stories are sold

To the ones of innocence

Who Have not been touched yet

Still waddle naked

There Is no battle ground for the young.

They see the earth and their mother as one.

Now they’ll find respect

is often the best kept secret.

Because under the carpet she’ll realise;

As she rests her head full of lies,

Fairy tales still told

But when she grows old

She’ll believe these stories are sold

To the one’s of innocence.

And the women who buy these stories of pride

Never question where they came from

Only the ‘moral’ — so the inequality will live on.

Each one kissed with consent

I say wipe off your make –up and lament!

She cannot rest — too full of torment

At least her body speaks true.

Her and her sisters now old

Weren’t even have to be told.

They saw instead, the pain and upset.

Women’s abuse, violence and torment.

These don’t belong to race, ethnicity or age.

Therefore women protect and sing praise.

Surrender ourselves to our female ancestors

To allow us to move with forgiveness.

As our crown has been paid.

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