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Adelaine Victoria Woolf
It is the curve of the ink on a page that forms a word
With more strokes and curves come more words
Constructing a continuous stream that connects together a notion
One believed by the hand holding the pen
My faith is one considered to be taboo
An abstract analogy in the current England era
Compelling me to create a culture of community
To express the possibilities of the nation
Our most crucial asset in life is women
They possess the essential skills for thriving
Holding much more than just wombs in their bodies
But affection and tenderness make up the whole of their hearts
I’ve embedded this theme into all of my pieces
Stitched into the fibers that make up the ink
My feminism bathing in the sunlight
As rays hit the pages of fictional stories
No longer shall I cower from the talk of the disapproving
That dare speak on notions they do not know
Moments they have never experienced
And will forever remain unaware of the presence of others
God has not heard the passing comments of men
May He exist, though my own mind doubts
Oblivious will He be to the struggles of his creations
So we must be the ones to hold our weight
Did the mothers of my blood think this?
Has it only been me to have this passion
For the women that wander by me?
Will there be more of me to walk this earth?
I have nothing to reason my queries with
Yet I continue to entertain these thoughts
Pouring them into my pen while letting others feel
What they believed to be an original emotion
Should I inspire the readers soon turned writers
Give them the delights of different ideals
Gain many friends and partners
To converse about our tastes in men
I have decided I am not long for this world
A writer with nothing new
Is an out-of-tune piano trying to play it’s melody
And I shall not reduce my title to only be a wife
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