Her Story (written by poet Sahitya Poonacha)

Her Story

written by poet Sahitya Poonacha

To be contained or content

Either way she’d be silent

Beyond life she’d find she was sure

Beauty galore

A small smile spelled more disaster

Than one wide and toothy, so much more like her

Shying away from conversation

Now that she’d given up all pretension

She could speak she supposed

But what was the satisfaction in being opposed

She was one they were many

Terrible beasts they were all, slaves of tyranny

Born as a burden

Lived sullen

Moved towards a starry sky

Only to find an empty night, sigh

Why her? She asks

Why the only one who doesn’t own masks

Never intruding, only living

Punished for being

Nobody saw the intelligence in her eyes

It died in all her strife, fights and cries

Nobody heard the confidence in her voice

It left when to live on, all she had left were lies

No one saw no one heard

They only perused, they only shushed

Poise and grace, her ultimate test

Mastered both yet didn’t get the crest

One of the lucky ones, ironically

For making it this far without being dead for all eternity

Part of another dwindling statistic

Part of another cause, a new uproar, much too futuristic

She is the mother

The sister and the daughter

The creation held as the closest to the creator

Yet she’s the one struggling to make it into the future

Her only fault, to be her

The only reason, her.