I am just a doll of rags
And I am torn and sewn
For future children just a bag
And needless parts are pruned.
The firstborn sin I am still rubbing
From my forehead off
In land of man I’m meant for stubbing
Cause men are from above.
I hide my freedom and my beauty
Under veils and headkerchief
Virtue is my real duty
Men are virtue thieves
Vanity is kept away
From my shallow mind
All I do is to obey
Always low and kind.
My husband is a god on earth
He can beat and kill
And there’s no chance for new rebirth
Cause this is Allah’s will.
And this rag doll could not complain
Cause she lives perfect well
If death is all that has remained
She has a place in hell.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Rag Doll by Tanya Ivanova )
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