Shame

slam poem, sort of. based on something that happened today at school.

Today, you called us in for an assembly.
You stood up there, and talked,
and talked and talked and talked.
I didn't listen much, because,
quite frankly, your voice gives me
a migraine.

You started talking about dress
code and how we dress.

You banned tank tops,

shorts above the knee,

and yoga pants.

You told us that the way we dress 
as women define us as a person,

you said that the way a women 

chose to dress showed how much 

respect she had for herself.

You told us to hide our shoulders 

as if though they would burn all

who see them. You told us that

wearing shorts was wrong, you

sexualized our legs to the point

where when it's hot we must 

suffer, you told us that if we

didn't it was showing we had

no morals, you told us that

it was our fault if boys stared

at our butts in yoga pants,

you told us that every step

and sway of under devolped

curves and hips of young teens

was a tease, that our bodies 

were meant to hide 

under

layer after layer after layer
after layer after layer,

you told me that if a boy

was looking at me in a sexual

view it was MY fault.

I have been told since I was 

young to not play with the boys,

to wear dresses,

I was told what to do so I

could be a poster little girl.

Now I understand the topic,

but the way you approach

it is downright disgusting.

You told us that clothing

equals self respect and that

it was our own faults if

someone sexualized our

bodies.

You shamed us, and when 

I left that crowded room,
I felt sick, because I was a 

girl.

and I didn't ask for this.

Author's Note

ahhh ive gotten so many reviews on my poems recently!! ive been gone because of school starting sorry and thank you for the reviews youre all really great! :D i promise ill reply more i dont want to be bitchy yknow