Her Story

I could see those beady eyes
Pale and half closed. Forever
She was in the bed of his care.
Like a bird in a basket. Pleats
Of her saree have grown upto
Her neck, choking her and she
Forgot dreaming about good
Old days passed by the hearth.
She has felt the pain between
Her strong thighs more than
Six times and laughed as a
Lunatic tied to the legs of a cot.
Nothing has changed since.
The iron door of customs did
Not make her to feel free and
She enjoyed bathing under the
Sun ogling through fresh leafs.

by Tiku akp

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