She is a third world girl
Living like a timid squirrel
She needs hair, to live safely

Ghettoes, Gulags, Auschwitz at every nook and corner
Acid is boiling in disguise of hot tea
Her dignity lies in her silence
She has to bend her head to walk proudly

She is a gazelle
Not allowed to take a leap
Hyenas had gifted her chain of freedom

And there are posters in the streets: “A female terroristwanted…dead or alive”
She had planted bombs of desire
On her bare hands and visible legs.