A shimming retail store of pristine gleam,                                      

A packed factory, so hot I could scream,

Racks on racks of trendy clothes to buy,

Assembly lines of people forced to sew and dye,

Thousands of different styles, a collage of design,                                                

Thousands worked to the bone, and mistreatment so malign,

I take a dress off the hanger and pull down the zipper,                                        

The boss yells “জলদি কাজ করো!”, Bengali for "Work quicker!"                                                                    

As I try on the dress, my body’s drowned in dread,                                  

I rapidly manipulate my needle and thread,     

A seam has popped loose and the dress falls apart fast,                                

These garments are made for quick production, not to last,                                                                                                                              

I expected better quality from my favorite brand,                                                    

Forced to use the bathroom in a bucket while I stand,                                                                                                                           

Am I getting too fat? Am I losing my figure?                                      

As our quotas only grow, getting bigger,                                                                                                                                               

Is it time to go low-carb, vegan, keto, the hot new diet?                                          

Many women and girls work here, but the young ones are quiet,

Beauty standards are strict, I must fit the norm,                                        

Production deadlines are strict, and I must conform,

Oh, the woes of womanhood!                                                                          

Oh, the woes of womanhood!