The grace of a woman,
Kind and tender,
Firm in speech,
Strong yet reliant,
And others before self.
Surroundings fawn as she strides,
Sacred at heart,
The tainted gaze of the society
Washing over her, leaving unscathed.
Revealing only the shadows of real emotions,
Through the twisted curl of her broken lips,
While her eyes say the rest.
And all men could only envy,
To match her or to catch her.
“Oh mere mortal men!
What do you know
Of the eternal grace of a woman?”