Posted in girl, poem, Uncategorized, women, women's day, writer, writing

BEING A GIRL

Sleeping in my mother’s womb,

I dream about empty rooms,

I hear happy voices from outside,

as I kick the surrounding walls wide.

 

Nine months hence, I finally come out,

and I get the love of everyone without any doubt,

Lined with kohl, my eyes see pink,

as that is the colour of a baby girl as everyone winks.

 

Some of them say that I bring good luck,

But many of my fellow mates get treated like muck,

They get killed for no reason at all,

because being a girl makes the parents’ life stall.

 

As I grow up, I fight the war of sexes,

I battle each and every prejudice with my verbal axes,

So what if I am a girl or a woman?

We are and have never been less than men.

 

I speak my mind wherever I go,

to those sexist remarks; I always say no,

I am not borne for a man’s pleasure,

Nor I am the object of some one’s leisure.

 

“Speak in whispers and laugh slowly”, they say,

But I yearn to live life my own way,

At least, I have the power to aim for skies,

What about my fellow mates who are eager to fly?

 

My wings are still there but their’s have been cut,

Our parochial society has stuck their lives in a rut.

But, I still believe a day will come,

when I will shine along with my chums,

We will fight for the respect we deserve,

until all those culprits are rightly served.

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Author:

The gluttonous devil in us is always looking for new food experiences, be it at our home or in restaurants or at food festivals.

2 thoughts on “BEING A GIRL

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