Monday, 25 April 2016

The Bruise.

She was tortured,
Hit by a wooden slate,
There were bruises all over her body,
Pressurised she was,
All the time.

Millions of these stories we hear,
Two of those we believe,
Rest just drown into the Mariana Trench.
She wanted to emerge into a good person,
Only if her past would have helped,
She wouldn't have to work for money but passion,
It is easy to say things,
But difficult to prove them right.

Every time she did something good,
He was the reason behind the curve on her face,
He who tortured her for no good,
For no reason,
Yes! That sadistic man.

In every speech of her's she brought up her past,
Even though it made her shed a few,
She was proud to share it with everyone.
She knew she wasn't the best but neither anyone of the audience were.

People who came to hear her,
Patted on her shoulder,
None knew there was a bruise underneath that piece of cloth too.

~A smile on someone's face has a reason behind it, it is you who has to be good enough to hear the reason. ~


It was fear again,
Who pulled the back gear.
Fear was well defined to be a mind game,
Who puts the heart on the aim.
And then the arrow,
Borrows some sorrow.

Then I gulped it down,
And she had a frown.
Its been years 
Of just too many fears.
Hears the ears.
And it was fear again who pulled the back gear.

Later it was,
When she had some cause,
Just for all her applause.
She lay down on the bed,
With all the ache in her head.
She could rest in peace,
If it would go with ease.

She knew it all,
But never made a call.
It would hardly make some difference,
Only if there was no reference.

She had put all her best and tried,
But never made the mistake to lie.
Lie came with a fear,
Which made me look into my past year.
Hears all this the ears and cries out loud,
But never came the crowd.

It was fear again,
Who pulled the back gear.

~ Every being on this planet has done something or the other which was a wrong decision, some can overcome it but some can't. There lies the difference~