Sitting on the steps she hums
And whispers to herself,
Like a leaf in slow wind;
She holds sparrows in her hair
And caresses her cheeks
With their plums, like a princess;
All her dreams to float with clouds
Have been shattered, like glass,
Bleeding her soul;
Like many girls of her age
She is trapped as a bird'
With her untamed beauty.
Lines in her palms have been
Written with old conventions
And rituals not in tune with time.
She has come down and climbed
Up the same steps without making
A noise to wake up sleeping elders;
Birds sing the same old songs,
Perching at the edge of the roof while
Picking seeds from her palm, that
Has over grown the dream in her eye.
Saturday, November 18, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: girl,pain