Ride, Woman, Ride. Poem by Driss Ezzireg

Since earth was Man's Dominion
woman bowed to Master Man
In servitude; in whole communion.
Never questioned His might.
Never He asked she her opinion.
Her existence depended solely
On His insistence that she be
His mistress always and eternally.
She was there to serve His Highness
Whenever He deemed it necessary.
Her task: to fuel His desires unasked.
woman felt happy to be His puppy
Licked His hands, wagged His tail
To make Him feel Himself Male!
Time ran by and by,
woman, at last, with a deep sigh
Became aware of the forgery.
She swore that the time
Was the ripe time
To win her first victory.

Ride, woman, ride!
The horses of pride
And win your victory!

Woman felt much glory
When thru history's gate
She cast her first vote
Braving Man's fury.
Alas! Her first and last win
Was thrown in His tory's bin
Woman though vanquished
And morally quite finished
Deep inside her she wished
For a lasting victory.
The moral of the story?

Ride, woman, ride
History's tide
And win more victories!