Dear Daddy,
Do you know what these men say to me?

With their
eyes and their mouths
when I walk on the street.

With a grin and a nod
and a look up and down.
A wink and a kiss
and a cat call heard from downtown.

With my skirt short
and my top
low,
It’s a cold world daddy
and no
doesn’t mean no.

Daddy do you know
how these men look at me?

Like I’m a piece of meat
strutting down the street?
With my head buds in
and my favorite song on.

I’m asking for it Daddy,
I’m in the wrong.

Do you know how it feels
not to wear what I like?

To walk a little faster
when I’m alone at night?

Daddy the world is my predator
and I am it's doe,
Daddy what happens
when I can’t say no?

The blanket embellished with typical artwork.  
Winter nor summer the snippet could hold.
Melancholic memories trail its framework.
Its restricted dimension not developed to unfold.

108 beads of rosary I gained in legacy.
While chanting your name I went on twirling the beads.
What escalated my heart, were the waves of agony
The beads broke down and fell into 108 seeds.  

I do not want the blanket or beads in heritage,
The spark that you left on such abandoned ruins
Which is now pulling the anecdote from wreckage
Just before my eyes memories were stewing.

What to talk on gains that do not rhyme?
Though mortals attains salvation in course of time!

© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved.