To Be A Butterfly Poem by ROOP REKHA BHASKAR

I’m here. I scream, I shout.
No one, nobody hears me out.
I am shunned. Pushed. Stamped, & Throttled,
No one knows cares. I’m cobbled…

Why this pain? This Mistreatment!
Why I endure this beaten moment?
Oh WHY? ? ?

‘CAUSE..
A baby girl born was I
Not to be loved by any eye.
Broom and mop is all I see
Cook, no books. I weep, WEEP!
Tireless, from morn ‘til night
Cannot stand – I cannot fight.

Yet morsels less-shelled out in my palm
Cannot take any more, this realm.
I’m a piece of worthless nude!
Beaten, molded, bruised,
I curl.
Unfurl me, a plea.
I mourn; to be born
A butterfly – or die.

There’s no home. I bemoan – and groan
As an eternal wife, pass this strife
No one to hold on, I take the scorn
Yet die again and again - every day every night
This my right? No! My plight!

As daughter, a sister, as mother
I’d also rather
Be a dancer, a singer, a teacher
And
Not Taunted, unwanted, insulted and bonded.

They deny. I cry! Mourn to be,
Reborn a butterfly…
Iive a day- yet full and …….die

I want to be Alive, Survive.
I want to fly. Not cry.
Touch the sky - High…
Reborn a butterfly.
Live a day-yet full and …die

I shout. I scream and dream.
I plead, give back my self-esteem.
Shrink my plight.
To educate, not suffocate;
Please can you relate?

I want to levitate, to take a leap.
And Fly! high… to the moon.
No more cocoons, No more Masters
I’m Gods creature, I’m in raptures.

And I cry, I want to survive,
Reborn a butterfly.
Live a day, yet full to fly…