It was that time of the month
When suddenly she turns impure
All holy doors are closed for her
As they keep the Gods secure.
And they believe
she poses a threat to His sanctity
so praying in that state
is considered utter profanity.
Well it was that time of the month
When she must not dance or play
Afterall she’s 16 now
Pretty grown up they say.
And once again she missed her school
And had to stay back home.
As She sits there in isolation
She is told it’s not healthy to roam.
Cause after all it was that time of the month
The one she should not name
As talking about it In front of a man
Seems like a matter of shame.
So, no matter how she feels
She must hide the pain.
And well Be careful ok
Oh not your health
But you know nobody should see a stain
Yet again, it was that time of the month
When she regrets being herself
Trapped in her body
Her existence screams out for help.
And not because of the pain, No
Trust me, because of this society and its norms
without any doubt
Yes, it was that time of the month
Which People believe
A well behaved women
Should not be written about.