Of Broken Traditions

You’ll be a mother one day, she tells me

You may not want it, but you will

There’s some growing to be done, you see

And then a household you will fill

For this is what her mother told her,

And her mother’s mother before her,

A woman’s job is to find a man,

and to birth his children is her chore

They say girls mirror their mothers,

A tradition I so hope to break.

So throw away the double looped pearls,

I’m going to stray outside the gate.

For why would I stay in this track,

Waiting for a wedding,

a ball and chain,

For the greatest love I’ve ever felt,

is still back inside that place.