A man’s a man,
I suppose
Whether he imparts wisdom
Or can’t disclose
His inner thoughts
For fear they rose
From deep inside
His dark shadows.
A woman’s a woman
I profess
Whether in a suit
Or in a dress.
She’s still a woman
Quite regardless
Of having kids
Or choosing childlessness.
He can speak in clips
Or flip to exhausting prose
He’s still who’s heard
In the throes
Of business meetings
And it goes to show …
She can be dressed in rags
Or with finesse,
As a hoe or
A goddamn goddess —
When it comes to her station
She must announce she’s
Hashtag blessed.
Because when, in fact,
They’re on their backs,
Only one of us is being praised
And the other will
Have their character attacked.
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