I felt so inspired by Roisin Murphy attending the
#199Days protest in London yesterday, I wrote a new poem.
Not In My Name
There once was a time when the world went mad,
They cut off girls’ breasts because they were sad,
They told sparkly boys that their bodies were wrong,
And attacked anyone not singing their song.
Women in prison were locked up with men,
As women’s humanity was debated again,
Are we people or feelings, an idea you can have,
Do our rights protect us or affirm larping lads?
Same sex attraction was forced back into hiding,
Turned out homophobia had been only time biding,
Lesbians instructed to love lady dick,
Gay men told to date women without tits.
All the power of government supported these lies,
Big businesses, charities, even sports cut their ties,
With reality, truth, dignity and honour,
Championing this totalitarian horror.
They even tried to say this was feminism,
That our liberation meant letting men in,
Meant harming children in body and mind,
Giving up all we had built so as to Be Kind;
To men who hate us and would see us destroyed,
To regressives who say there are boys' and girls’ toys,
To politicians who betrayed us in our hour of need,
To those who rely on our compliance their egos to feed.
So what did you do when the day came,
Did you keep your head down, hope your luck would remain?
Or did you stand tall, put it all on the line,
Say not in my mother’s name and not in mine.