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The Womanhood Express


Carolyn Marie

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THE WOMANHOOD EXPRESS

By Carolyn Marie

We're waiting at the station,

In hope but also stress,

We all stand in patient queue,

To board the Womanhood Express.

It's said this train is magical,

A journey long and fair,

To a place we all can be ourselves,

Live our lives as women there.

Our tickets paid in price so high,

The cost beyond belief,

Lost friends, lost loves, lost families,

Bought our fares as well our grief.

Our suffering we packed away,

In bags filled with regret,

Until they bulged at every seam,

And beg us ne'er forget.

But time is short, the train awaits,

The conductor makes last call

To board the train called Womanhood,

It will take us, one and all.

As we pull out from the station,

The engineer gives a whistle toot,

And all the teens in the dining car,

Call out as one, "Woot, Woot!"

We have a crew of therapists

On this train to help us find,

The path to gender harmony,

Between our bodies and our minds.

There are doctors in the medical car,

We could not do without,

They prescribe the medicine,

That lets the "girls" in us come out.

Surgeons are here too, we're told,

With skills so long refined,

To take away the male parts,

And create the female kind.

Next in line is the dining car,

Where salads are the fave',

But for dessert we save some room,

For the cookies Sally made.

In the Femme Car we all practice,

Ways to look and sound so fine,

Voice and walk and mannerisms,

Feminine and refined.

Hair is the objective,

In the next car on the track,

Not only how to take it off,

But how to put it back.

A modern torture chamber

Is the horror that awaits.

Laser beams and 'lectric probes,

Take those whiskers off our face.

Epilators and razor blades,

Turn our smiles into frowns,

They make us wince and make us cry,

But leave skin like eider down.

Fashion rules the next car,

And we girls line up in glee,

Perchance to wear a pretty thing,

To make us feel carefree.

We match our clothes to body types,

Tall and heavy, short and thin,

We have but one aim in mind,

Wear something to blend in.

The last car on this train of hope,

Is dimly lit and draped in gloom.

It's here we come to pay respects

To those who've met their doom.

Some took their lives when hope was lost,

Some fell prey to hate and fear,

We cherish lives of one and all,

And hold their memories dear.

The train begins to slow at last,

The station comes in view,

This land we will live out our lives,

Is draped in morning dew.

Our noses pressed to windows,

As we gaze on promised soil,

This wonderland of female dreams,

For which we long have toiled.

We gather on the platform,

Wearing jeans and skirts and dress,

Blow a kiss to engineer and crew,

Of the Womanhood Express.

Arm in arm and hand in hand,

We march onward strong and proud,

Our journey now is over,

And we melt into the crowd.

######

Link to comment
Guest Donna Jean

Oh God, Carolyn.......

You totally killed me with that....

Why have you waited so long to show us this talent of yours...?????????????

Tease!

It was wonderful.....

Huggs ....

Donna Jean

Link to comment

Well, Carolyn,

You made me cry too.

It is so well written and all of the imagery so clear

Why have you hidden this talent from us my dear

I have written about the night

But you provide a shining light

This train of which you speak so well

The one I ride and even ring the bell

It takes us to that place we all have longed to be

To where we can all stand up and say this is me

The muse hits us all in different ways and at different times.

Love ya,

Sally

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  • Admin

Thank you very much, Sally and Dee Jay. Your comments make it all worthwhile.

Love

Carolyn Marie

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Guest BeckyTG

Caring Carolyn Marie,

You have a special talent and a lot of time on your hands.....

Very nice job and very insightful.

Woot! :D

Love,

Becky

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  • 1 year later...
  • Admin

I've never done this before; resurrect an old poem. But given that it's Thanksgiving, I wanted to give thanks to the Goddess for where I, and many of my friends, are today.

I wrote this when the "promised land" seemed a distant dream. But I have arrived at the final destination, and the Express has returned to pick up its next load of passengers. I may not have "melted into the crowd," but I can say with certainty that I am still strong and proud.

Happy Thanksgiving, all my friends.

Love

Carolyn Marie

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