Going With The Wind
By Laura Adkins

These silken garments feel as polyester,
a faker's indication of true riches and success.
Yet still I don my lacy trims and overflowing fabrics,
my loathsome daily effort to replicate true noblesse.

Many roads have I traversed in these fancy shoes,
no mercy has ever been shown this woman's waist,
This cursed affliction has forever plagued us,
we female fashion plates in jewels encased.

With all honesty, we noble ladies desire
for just one day to walk free of our skirts,
and don the pants our menfolk wear in freedom,
for once, to give them all their just desserts.

Someday justice will be served for our kind,
and for once true equality will bloom.
Yet til then, we ladies shall barefoot walk the sahara,
til these cursed petticoats this Hell consumes.

All writing is copyright LAURA ADKINS. Internet-posted work is protected under copyright law. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED