Widow Poem by Eindaray Kyaw

Rumors and gossips on the floor
That flirting with guys, short and tall
Begin to burst my higher world
No one can see my poor soul;

Despite trying to neglect
But, fail and be tired, helpless;

Called a lonely, yet stony heart
Ever bleeding for other cowards;

Coaxed to lean on them
Almost insulted by gentlemen
Oh! My Sweety, let me run;

A need to swallow my pride
Before you let me take my life;

Just knowing it's a bad case
Big waves of relief wash over my face;

Please call me 'Scarlett' in dream
Soon, all will have 'Gone with the Wind'.
(Her sweet laughter comes out coldly............!)