by Jennifer Richards


To every lost little girl out there,


Girls are taught to tear each other down,

We’re told only one can reach the crown,

There are so few girls at the top,

You have to make sure the others flop,

But this is what the men tell you,

In order to stop the inevitable coup.

Stop the girls from rising higher and higher,

Exposing what he said, how he’s a liar.

Because we will not rip each other apart,

Claim power by scarifying our heart,

That isn’t what girls do.

They raised me up, so I can help you.

As your hand wraps round mine,

That’s the sisterhood that’s in this rhyme,

Because you see I have women in my tribe.

Yes, I hear what they say, every joke, every jibe,

But I don’t care, because now I have a sister,

And we’re taking back the power from every mister.


 Love from a girl who found her tribe X


Jennifer Richards | @thesenightthoughts |

Jennifer Richards is a storyteller who loves the world of words, whether that means working on a novel, a play, or a poem. She’s also a freelance journalist and campaigner. If she’s not writing a book, she’ll usually be found curled up reading one.

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