Waseem A Malla
A Poor Single Mother...! ! ! - Poem by Waseem A Malla
Tonight she decorated another bed,
She was the ornament of another night,
Tonight some new arms embraced her,
And she slept with another man.
Tonight a promise echoed again in her mind,
A broken promise but not an old one-
A promise made just yester-night:
A vow- not to sleep any more, again,
Not to let strange arms hold her,
On the bed, every night, with a new man-
All the strangers on this vast earth.
One vow- not to decorate any new beds,
For all the comfort of these beds
Pricked her body more than any thorns.
Thorns! Or perhaps, a sharper thing,
As they pricked her soul too.
But there was nothing more to do,
As the man's cruel eyes wouldn't let-
Let her keep the promises she made,
For she, tonight, satisfied some other soul;
She quenched the thirst of another man,
And satiated the lust of a new stranger-
In order to satiate her own hunger,
To quench the thirst of her own throat;
To buy bread for her hungry children,
She tonight slept with another man!
But tonight she made another promise,
Just to renew the contract the other night:
To complete a vicious cycle of promises-
Making a new one, & breaking again!
I wonder, if tomorrow, she sleeps again,
With a new stranger, who could afford,
A few pennies, to decorate her,
For a newer stranger, the next night-
To quench their respective thirsts & hungers.
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