The Great Indian Kitchen

Oh I don’t want to fly 
Very high up in the sky

Happy to be tied down 
And make as my own 
A new family, new home

A mother so caring, so warm
Teaching me every norm
To keep the men calm

And when she was not around 
Is when I found
What she has to contend

I tried to push and shove
I tried to love 
The floor that needs to be swept

I looked to share 
But there was no care 
For women are cows

I am an individual finely bred 
Not just to be of use in bed
And be tied to the house

If I don’t listen
I have to contend with the power of men
And be shown my place 

My spirit is dying 
I am crying 
With silent screams 

It’s time to walk out 
Without a doubt
To live life on my terms

Oh I don’t want to fly 
Very high up in the sky