Life isn't a fairy tale
But she dreamt it to be.
With her heels nailed to the ground
She let her emotions free.
"I wish I were a bird" she said
And would she escape to her city of dreams
Unaware was she about the virtual lie,
Believed urban life was beautiful as it seems:
With handmade paper flowers dripped in sweat
She boarded the earliest train,
Hoping the little money she made
Would suffice her with the next morning trip.
Draping a saree ,she hid her scars
Of shattered dreams and lost wars!
Gathering the beauty of those paper flowers
She started again for the long six hours.
Sitting by the window
Tranquility led her path of dreams
The wind caressing her matted hair,
The rusty compartment startled with screams!
Over her tender bossom she felt,
Rough debauched grasp,
Struggling with her feeble wrists
Her petrified soul collapsed.
No less than an animal he pounced,
Whilst animals when hungry they prey!
Staining those white flowers Red,
Her tattered relics as leftovers they lay!
Whilst some as articles we read
Many of such go unnoticed.
With millions marching with candles in hand
Let's light the flame of Justice!