The last of the Mohicans

Those were the days,
When men were honoured.
Being the best by default;
Pampered from birth to death,
Those were the days.

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Those were the days;
When strong men were shielded,
By members of the family, society.
From the back breaking jobs,
Of running a house.

Those were the days;
When simple criticism was,
Payment enough for women;
To do their work better,
Work harder to make life good.

Those were the days,
When women cried in agony;
Burdened with multiple children.
From a tender age, perplexed,
Stamped as the weaker sex.

Those were the days,
When men were respected,
Simply for being men, that’s enough.
Licensed to exploit women ,
Their characters not questioned .

Those were the days,
When boys and men were cocooned,
From the deariness of life.
The drudgery and boredom,
Of menial household work.

Ah! Those were the days;
To live life to the fullest.
Battles came and went,
Giving accolades to winners,
Killing the losers instantly.

Those were the days,
The happy exciting days.
Not ones that kill you from inside,
Slowly but surely, every moment.
Ah! Those were the days.

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(The last of the Mohicans. The final remaining or surviving person or thing of a particular group, kind, or race. Taken from the title of the 1826 novel by James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans.)