Women's day

"Directions" - since any form of communication is best executed through poetry
By Scaramouche, the po(t)et, who isn't quite sure if she knows what the feminist-label is all about anymore...and when do you stop being part of something you where actually born into?

Is this the power of the sisterhood?
Is this the magic that'll make us good?
The craziness with which the armies stood up
and then they backed back down again

Is this the beauty of the ladies' blues?
Are these the battles we'll see in the news?
The craziness with which the man pursues guts
and then he's forced to back down again

Is this the game the movements called for?
Is the the reason why one's called a whore?
The craziness due to which the differences galore
The craziness which caused confusion, furthermore
The craziness; we don't know why we're fighting, nor
will we soon understand these celebrations

Is this the independence that we say we craved?
Is this the purpose for which femininity was saved?
The craziness, the horror and the happiness; all played up
I think we all forgot where we should've stopped

And - I can't read the directions any longer,
but I hope we're heading for a place where something's right
I can't tell appearances from outrage any longer,
but I hope that inside, there's still left enough of something right