Tuesday, March 17, 2015

poem on woman safety

Old God
Didn't you hear cicadas cry
When she was wounded
& ready to die.
Old god
Spare some thoughts For her
As she is calling
Out your name when hurt .
Old god
Is my yesterday dream shattered
When we would walk freely
Without getting hurt.
Old god
I write this in torchlit night
With a broken pencil in my hand
Hoping for respite.
Old god
I don't want lavish lifestyle
Just a world safe for us
Where we can walk with our head high.
Where we wont be punished
And there wont be any prejudice
 thoughts for us
And we live with gleam in our eyes.
Linking this post to weekly story week 9 hosted by colours d├ęcor.

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