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Nov 2020
She stood by the door, with tear-stricken eyes;
A small-little push, and they'd be inside.
She thought of her mother, who left her all alone;
She wished for a father, who would care her like his own.
Her thoughts were broken, by the furious bangs on the door;
She begged the Lord of mercy, even if she wasn't the one wrong.
Her frail body was thrown aside, as they rushed into the room;
She closed her dead eyes, awaiting her doom.
Throughout the push and pull, she did not utter a word;
For she knew her mistake, of being born as a Girl.
Written by
Sanmi Pawar  16/F/Mumbai, India
(16/F/Mumbai, India)   
601
       Benzene, Weeping willow and Traveler
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