100 years has past
1918 marks the date
of women’s right to vote.
They tell us, we have grown in
voices, numbers and colours.
But we are the lonely voices in a room full of men.

 

What chance have I got?

 

I am a woman of colour
a daughter of an immigrant,
a foreign name with a scouse
accent and a faith you hate.

 

What chance have I got?

 

We are confronted when we question
the pay gap sinking below its limit,
sexual harassment denied,
made to believe that you are a
motherhood trap, climb the ladder,
reach the glass ceiling
it’s white middle-class men around the table
waiting for mini skirt, loose shirt,
thin long legs and small waist
and the tap of the heel to pass through the door
but we are more than just flesh and bones.
We are Mothers, dreamers, educators
we are the movement of bigger change.

 

But what chance have I got?

 

I am a woman of colour,
a daughter of an immigrant,
a foreign name with a scouse
accent and a faith you hate.

 

Oh! Dear women
we are still far from progression.
It is a painful thread passing through its hole
is where we stand today
and we deserve so much more.

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