Depravity dines, corrupt calamity,

Twisting lines, vile virality,

Prophets scream and children listen,

Deceptions deem what we may christen,

"The world is dying--have they no morals?"

Eternally spying--I observe the laurels,

Gold that glistens, tightly weaved,

A blight of ricin, so slays the leaves,

The **** does not wither, it does not collapse,

With chill comes a shiver, consumed are the scraps,

"The world is dying--have they no charity?"

Eternally prying--At last, I have clarity,

The world, I had swore, may one day find peace,

The world, it's at war, a war that shan't cease,

Weapons need not, we fight with mind,

Nary a lulled thought, serenity is blind,

"The world is dying--can our home mend?"

Eternally trying--I can't stop the end.

Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.

Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.

Eight little soldier boys traveling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.

Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.

Six little soldier boys playing with a hive;
A bumble bee stung one and then there were five.

Five little soldier boys going in for law;
One got in chancery and then there were four.

Four little soldier boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.

One little soldier boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there was none.

That’s all it takes to make a woman quiet,
to silence her.

A slap, a word, a scream, an eye
and perhaps a kiss too.

But there’s a different story for my mother.
For the three words, she spoke
while her heart was struggling to keep alive,
She was given a slap.

A slap whose loudness,
I still hear somedays
when I go to bed and when my mother wakes up.

I think she has been silent for too long
to even count now.
So, I pretend I never heard her speak in the first place.

But there is a different story for my sister.
For her Thumbelina sized request,
she was shouted on like Lady Tremaine did.

In a voice so loud that
It was all she could hear for years to come by.

So, while hearing that, she forgot to speak.
She did not know who to search for
when your ‘Prince Charming’ becomes your ‘Wicked Step-Mother’.

But there is a different story for her.
For tears in her eyes
and the words that were just a zygote in her mouth’s womb,
she got a stare.

A stare, that froze her down
and her words had to go through a miscarriage

So, she went through an unplanned abortion
that made her mouth infertile.

But there’s a different story for her.
However, somehow, they are all the same.

Because that’s all it takes to make a woman quiet,
to silence her.

A slap, a word, a scream, an eye
and perhaps a kiss too.