Women only write about themselves.
When they compose,
a therapeutic ooze engulfs and salves
a woman’s woes.
That self-absorbed confession self-absolves,
while readers doze.
Women only write about themselves.
Enough of those.
When men say “I”, their “I” is universal.
Their strong hearts bleed
for all the tribe. Applaud their verses’ muscle!
Attend! Give heed!
The female “I” is narcissistic. Facile.
A feeble reed.
When men say “I”, their “I” is universal.
It’s all we need.