Women of the Trade
Just when light fades, we are free to be free.
Endless nights lying upon the stars,
Wondering, wishing, waiting--
The moon tells revolutionary stories of the oppressed,
The sun spreads gleaming rays of hope,
I sit still--
The night is my escape, my chance to be me.
I am who I want to be.
As the rosy morning sky sings songs of ambition,
I am shackled with daytime frets.
Surrounded by the land of golden opportunity,
But trapped because I am me.