Eighth of March every year
I see on the television, some cheer
Celebrate as Women's day
As a kid I thought these women do have the magic wand to keep problems at bay.
Days pass, so do the years
Yet, women have not lost their fears
Humiliation, Molestation, Rape Case, Murder is still in their destiny:
All play the music of cacophony.
Now on this Eighth day of March two thousand and seventeen
There is no scene
As for me to think of a magic wand to change the plight of the women who fight to survive
Alone a woman can never thrive.
Only the affluent smile
Like the pretty rose, the rest with thorns try to breathe all the while.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A profound write that draws attention to the plight of women. Real measures must be taken to give women their rights, rather than just celebrating days. Well penned.