If my vagina was a gun, you would stand for its rights,
You would ride on buses and fight all the fights.
If my vagina was a gun, you would treat it with care,
You wouldn’t spill all its secrets because, well, why go there.
If my vagina was a gun, you’d say what it holds is private
From cold dead hands we could pry, you surely would riot.
If my vagina was a gun, its rights would all be protected,
no matter the body count or the children affected.
If my vagina was a gun, I could bypass security,
concealed carry laws would ensure I’d have impunity.
If my vagina was a gun, I wouldn’t have to beg you,
I could hunt this great land and do all the things men do.
But my vagina is not a gun, it is a mightier thing,
With a voice that rings true making lawmakers’ ears ring.
Vaginas are not delicate, they are muscular and magic,
So stop messing with mine, with legislation that’s tragic.
My vagina’s here to demand from the source,
Listen to the voices of thousands or feel their full force.
Why…
Oh, why…
That’s disgusting… I’m a tough old nurse, after all. I can discuss brain surgery over dessert… but this is skirting the edge of tolerance.
The usual bullshit of thinking some people should or do have some special “rights” – or more of them, or more important ones – something like that.
I sincerely do hope this pea brained female person never has to face a situation where her poetry isn’t enough to discourage a rapist or murderer. Well, most of me does anyway.
“If my vagina was a gun, its rights would all be protected,
no matter the body count or the children affected.”
Oh the irony…it burns, it buuurrrnses!!
Yeah, the dense author wrote this pile o’crap to defend her right to have an abortion…but whines about the children affected by guns…She doesn’t exactly know what an abortion does and how it affects the children, does she?
If her vagina was a gun, it would be a gold-plated Desert Eagle .50AE. Overpriced, noisy, mostly a novelty. The kind of thing you shoot once, just to say you did. Not much good for everyday use. Been in lots of movies. Way over-sized. And so on.
I was just about to put my wellies on to go out and turn the generator off…
I’m now looking at their dung spattered, worn and ragged tops in a different and somewhat disquietening light
They’re a somewhat gangrenous green colour too.
do I really want to put my foot in there?
I’m gonna write a haiku about my balls being hand grenades.
This is gonna sound mean because it is but I’ve noticed over the years that the type of women who do stuff like write politicized poems about their awesome empowered ladyparts and otherwise go out of their way to use the word “vagina…well they tend to be pretty beat. “Muscular and Magic” don’t always spring to mind.