She is a magic of
almighty, shaped in a mother’s womb,
Another she, who
herself is a wonderful enchantment of lord.
But the day she is
born, the magic is gone,
As the world is
dying for a son.
Yes she is a girl.
An undefined,
unvalued and hurting living thing,
Carrying a ocean of
pain within
From the inception
leading to her life’s last chapter,
Playing all the
characters from daughter, sister, wife and mother.
Without being
tetchy, she is fleeting her life,
Without demanding,
she is gratifying man’s desires.
No one else can
play her role, yes it is she
She is girl, yes
she is a girl.
When she arrives in
the world, she gets the tag of being a girl,
Though delight is
there in a home, but perhaps real pleasure is always mislaid.
Further when she
grows up, a world is there to snatch her beam,
Yet she is brawny
enough to weigh the world’s anguish & grief.
With stiffness
inside, she keeps going when everyone else cease,
She goes miles away
showering love and adore to people to relish.
Finally a day comes
in her life, with ample of thoughts boiling inside,
So many questions,
yet unanswered, testing her strength to stand by side.
Yes she has to
leave her own dwelling,
Aiming to adorn
others home with so many dreams in her eyes,
Perhaps she is so
foolish, she is so innocent,
Not knowing that it
is another illusion leading to an unsought life.
Here comes the
arraign of being wife and a mother,
And she tides over,
tolerating the rudeness of her children sometime and at other being badly hurt
by husband.
But no concern, she
is still alive, perhaps because she is a girl, a women or a brilliant mortal of
god.
Shedding tears, the
only support she bears,
Again being
thin-skinned, she goes on, going far away,
With no demands, no
prospects, but
Sprinkling love all
round,
Yes she is a girl
she is a girl.
