Can your heart be so acrid,
and so unjust, vile,
that it could turn to brass?
An axe could not plummet
through your valves, so cold.
Yet my tepid hands...could
crush it very easily.

Each breath withdrawn,
each sigh from your lips-
trembling, less time to
grasp you in my arms.
Your sweet words become faint,
but still pull on my strings.
I am in a heap of astonishment
now wonder-wounded.

"Frailty, thy name is woman,"
I am weak, never a man,
which I desire to live up to.
A woman, do you see me as
a bawd? A toy for seducing?
Yet I know you can redeem me,
and touch my mind and make
gender boundaries fade out.

Can your heart be scorching,
as coldness seeps out quickly?
And now mine, still as brass,
warmness has drifted away.

And I will never be you.

A/N: You could decipher this and take this as you'd please. I am not offending females, because I am a female myself, duh. And I am no way saying that males are the superior gender. I just feel sometimes that I am ashamed of how feeble my own gender is, wishing I was as equal as a man. I have no idea if any of this makes sense. I have no idea also if anyone will understand what I am talking about. I seem to justify my poems lately but I guess that's because maybe I am not getting out what I need to...?