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Being a Victim...

Poetry By: arun

A short poem about a victim. A girl who eloped with her lover only to find that he sold her to sex market.

Submitted:Nov 19, 2011    Reads: 232    Comments: 23    Likes: 9   

Garden is where I once was; more stinking than graveyard that is here;

Once a butterfly flying freely in the garden; now on the ground, wings being plucked.

The colour, the odour, the vigour all lost in seconds-the result of my naïveté.

Poetry, like the beauty of one, my life was so colourful; a single decision can

Alter one's life; it did in my case too; I should've stayed home - but giving in to

His green eyes, I eloped; only to realize I ran towards darkness, and not love.

Lust filled their eyes and every of their tissues, and nothing else, who

Would come everyday one by one to quench their thirst--ignoring

The fact that I was not thirsty; selfish two legged creatures, they all are.

Dusk is what it is now; what it is always here for there's no light; I thought

The dawn will come, the 1st time he compelled me, thought that all will be well

Should sun come, but yet not dawning; the sun never came for the last 3 months.

"Dream on till your dreams come true"; it came true only to slap me.

For I dreamed of a ticket to hell; should've realized it the very 1st time

I felt that crush; now it is out of my hands; being a victim is cruel.


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