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A Young London Poet On Women's Rights

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21-year-old London poet Charly Cox has been writing a poem a day for the month of January and posting them to her 30k Instagram followers. Here, we share Charly's poem for today – the day women are marching for their rights across the world as the man who grabs women "by the pussy" takes his seat in the White House.

"Tell Me, Sir" by Charly Cox

Tell me, sir

Explain it loud and clear

Shout your most direct

Explicit fears

Scream them until

The decibels reach parallel

To the clang and clatter in my heart

Until you can rage each syllable

So pointedly you can throw your voice like a sharpened dart

And throw it for me

Speak for me

Times those fears by ten

Then times them by one hundred

And one thousand and again

Keep multiplying what shakes you

Until it becomes so monstrous

So tangible and noxious

That it no longer feels like fear

It just feels constant

Familiar

Monotonous

Like you've spent your life rehearsing

For a nightmare

As the understudy

Never quite enough for the part

Because you don't qualify as somebody

Like you've learnt every line

As though what you feel is fiction

And you'll never get the lead as someone

Whose script is written with conviction.

Tell me, sir

Explain it loud and clear

Explain it so loudly my unborn daughter can hear

Project your voice into the future

If you can impregnate me with these lost morals

You're free to rape me just as quick

And then what happens if you conceive more than fear ?

What happens if I don't want that kid?

Your future is bubble wrapped

And I'm held punishable for it.

Try and tell me that you're scared

As you bang my head on the glass ceiling

And drag me by my hair

Through statements like

SHE ASKED FOR IT

I'm pretty sure I didn't...

Pretty sure I'm pretty more

Than a pretty face to be ignored

Tell me, sir

Explain it loud and clear

Because I’m lost

Wandered down too many paths

With no roads for me safe enough to cross

Without carrying my keys like a weapon

Been employed in so many places

Where I'm a disposable body on a ladder to step on

Tell me, sir

Mr, why are your Mrs

Missing out?

Why do you consider us so little ?

Who was the man that taught you

To grow into this man so bitter

Dishing out

What I can and cannot be?

Who was the man that showed you a lesser being

And why was that lesser being me?

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