Born A Women Poem by belinda mrwebi

At the end of all things, maybe we will remember the beginning.
Perhaps we will know the reason behind our pain and smile because the lessons surpass all that we have lost.
Maybe at the end of life, women will hold hands and chuckle with men who raped, abused, hurt and ostracized them, all in the name of humanity and forgiveness.
Maybe the bitterness and hurt will become like yesterdays news and not a single one of us will hold such great resentment for one another.

Maybe, just maybe.

At this moment however hate is still ripe and the blood is still wet.
Our hearts are still worn to shreds and overwhelmed by the dust in our soul and we are still blinded to the beauty of possibility.
for what my heart has gone through is more than just a horrific story that made front page news.
And i am more than just another faceless woman found violated and left laying in the pool of her own blood on the subway
, this is my life,
I have walked through the hurt and lived in its excruciating pain.
I sleep and wake up to it and have for breakfast.
This is my life.
Maybe, just maybe.
one day some angelic force will sweep over my soul the dust of my hurt and i will pain no more.
Maybe i will reed myself of the pain and smile from the heart.
Maybe at the end of my life i will remember the little girl who was born of love.

For now though, I can feel the heavy load of pain weighing over my life, yet i have deemed myself too fragile to even try to remove it.
And the question left lingering in my mind is:
To whom do we owe the pain of being born a women?
By: Belinda Mrwebi.