Who are you, modern woman? Say you do not grow weary with the battle to prove yourself manly that the world drafts you to fight.Who are you, modern woman? Say you do not grow weary with the battle to prove yourself manly that the world drafts you to fight. Woman soldier? Ha! It is in the battlefield of the workplace that your battles are fought, in the barbershop of the home that your locks are shorn, in the war between the sexes that your ribbons are won. And what, oh modern woman, have you gained? What price have you paid? Do you not long for the man who has power and who will use it with you? Do you not hunger for men to be men, for them to give you what it is you want most from them? What is it you want? Do you search for gentle men, submissive men, men who will give you the power and who will give you your way? What then, when you have found such men, will be your way? What will you ask of them, and what will they have to give? Where is your power, oh woman, and what monsters would you with it slay? Look upon the length of you. Why is it that your breasts jut out away from you? So that they may be hidden? Why is it that when you walk your hips move differently from those of men? So that no one will see that you are woman? Why is it that your legs must be opened for sex, that even to relieve yourself you must squat and spread them? Do you never wonder why it is that man grows soft after sex, prohibiting him, and yet woman stays wet and open and available? Do you never look over your shoulder at the curve of your deriere, and judge its attractiveness, its desirablitity? Oh, modern woman! Why the struggle you give yourself to? Surely man has hurt your cause, has pushed you into the roles you accept by his very failure to be that which he was created to be. |