There are no tigers without scars 

There are no tigers without scars because there are no smooth roads for little girls to ride on. There are no flower beds to fall into for that girl who wants to soar. There are no stairs laid down for any girl who wants to reach the stars. There are no tigers without scars because there are no hands that pick the thorns and pebbles on their paths. For a woman who fights the rogues at work, at the market, in the metro, on the road, during the day or at night, in public or all alone, there are no soldiers who come to her rescue. For a girl who fights to scale the walls of social bias, there are no ropes that pull her up. For one who wants to make it big, there are no pats that she gets on her back. We as women rough it up, we brush, we scrape, we bruise, we fall, we rise but we keep moving onward and upward. There are no tigers without scars.