Under the circling of men
we press forward,
a sea of women, wave upon wave,
row upon row,
voices,
sailing on the stench of injustice,
brought to our knees
spilling wretched grief
on the doorstep of oppression,
chapters are closing,
and, at the thick of dark,
I sit content.
(Snipp_its)
Picture Source Pinterest. Saul Leiter: In My Room