Gently pushed she the glossy door with soft fingers
As the indifferent pilot stares at her usual departures
Wore she the arrogant dear skirt
Dares too putting on a vulgar para-shirt
Unable to conceal her rare body wealth
Who saves when she herself loses her moral health?
Embraced in boyfriend's arm, her destination is disco floor
Where suffocating pleasure beckons with spendthrift of
money unto crore.
Affectionately draws she her only lad with bonny hand,
Lack of shelter, dearth of food in this poor and void land.
Alas! Drenched in incessant rain,
Roaming in the scorching sun through streets and lane
Passes she serial nightmares gazing at stars,
Occasionally haunted by a few torn dreams with
unavoidable blurs.
Whom to blame when the creator seems to be partial?
Is the right to survival a farce in her unending trial?
10-01-2008
Copyright © Amitava, India, All rights reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem