I once read 

You are a facist

If you destroy art

So look past her sad eyes

And

Light leaking through her thighs

Give her a hand

When she can't seem to stand

Don't make her feel like dirt

There is only so much hurt 

She can take

Forsake the trouble you might make

Rake up the courage 

To make her see

The warmth she brings 

Like a cup of hot tea

Ankita Bhat