Why should women be seen, seen and not heard?
What are these lines, and why are they blurred?

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but our beholder is the world,
When can we take back beauty, when is a beauty just a word?
Stop – because she may be someone’s wife, a sister, a daughter, worth more than just her own life.
Stop – she may be your brother’s mother, she may belong to another.
She may belong to another who carries a knife.
A knife to cut, a knife to claim, a knife to reverse the act of life and turn it into a game.
A woman must be an empty canvass, betray no hint of the memories she brings,
For a woman with experience is a most dangerous thing.
She must embrace motherhood, and rejoice in this chance,
Yet reject the marks it leaves her, and never finish the dance.
Tired eyes, stretch marks, untidy hair, and loose skin,
Our baby may have given us this, but we lose it on a whim.
A whim that says men set the rules of this game,
We’ll pick and choose the parts of motherhood that we want to remain.
You must accept your baby at your breast, but never in public, that we will not accept.
Instead we’ll gaze on lifeless forms in magazines, and unlike baby we’re free to use your body as we please.
You must stay at home with baby, never go against the grain,
Smile sweetly and ensure you never ever show the strain.
Please do not dress sexily, unless we tell you so,
Your desirability should be our own private show.
A cook in the kitchen, a lady in the street, a whore in the bedroom, someone our friend would like to meet.
We’ll attach the label to each and every context, you dress for the part, and then we’ll do the rest.
Why should a woman walk home clutching her keys,
A key to a room of her own, yet in an hour she’ll be back on her knees.
Why should a woman be marked out of ten, why should we smile, not for ourselves but for men.
Why should a woman be submissive in bed,
Why should women not lead, but only be led.
Why should a woman?