(12/04/23) I find the concept that “boys are so much different that girls” repulsive. It’s so sexist and really hateful— and frankly disgusting to believe the two to be practically different species. It’s nothing less than prehistoric and preschoolish to maintain that state of mind And when you drag along your boys and girls The PEOPLE are left behind. I think that the people who believe this lose sight of the fact that we’re all a part of the human race And your proofs of this inherent male and female are fickle! Your control has no control over his or her body, surroundings, they’ve subconsciously had all this nonsense forced into their heads Pink and blue Me and you Exchanged for them and us Their freewill of choice is corrupted by your chronic lies; Untruths dripping with the venom of yesteryear Not just of “stay in the kitchen but “don’t show remorse, “Or this greif Papa only threw your dolly in the fire to keep you safe Out-run Don’t cry. If it’s really all that awful you’ll resolve to grieve inside. Now son, Be still If you begin to harbor feelings presume a flaw in your will” Well fed Pure bred You think you’d like to feel? Instead Perhaps you’d calm down boy you can feel when you are dead. Now to be young, You must be loud. And do be sure you aren’t flamboyant, but obnoxious That’s how you’ll make your father proud. Poor boy believes him! And in an effort to impress his so similarly hardened father he tries his best. Breaking his heart an soul in the process, he succeedes. Within a lifetime so rewired, duress is instantly demerged To an internal clot in the mouth He’s scarce if at all equipped to breathe Although he hasn’t any need In striving for the supernatural, Turned inhumane— can you believe the sort of person may have sprouted If such falsities had gone unspouted? And so the in-bred scourge of alleg’d ‘virrility’ Thus brought a certain lack of verability to man. Thus, aye, need every strix be striven Bemoan society; we must him bring our due We demand recompense for our forefathers and fathers behind them The generations of automatons whose very thoughts and feelings blend Doub-triple fie on what bastard demigod O’r entire misfortune sent. And so we weep for the martyrs. Infected sons Affected daughters Recall unbridled, reckless fate And let it lead us not to hate, but to proaction With strict inaction, Alors, the passion in the streets— can you imagine? If this is a goal we’re going to achieve we must make sure, we must remember only this, in this our day and age, The holy mantra never was “woman are worthy” or “equal paychecks.” No, it was always one of principal, more than we’re different, we’re the same.
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