When did I begin to doubt myself, was it when I bounced and rattled on the floor?
Or was it when I was challenged and ridiculed for fighting for so much more?
I fought for so many things in so many places up in so many faces.
Yet now I am told that I can only do so little and stay in small places.
I was a fighter for so many years, for those that had no voice, to those that needed ears.
Yet now I am afraid to leave my house, what happened to that woman who is now a mouse, which fought those years.
Why am I now doubting myself, is it because to many have told me my direction and thoughts are wrong?
Have I given in to those that feel the need to manage me, to guide me, to let me know I am wrong?
I used to be independent, a fighter, a bitch, a sass.
Now all that’s left something weak, hiding, a little hiding lass.