Frustrated

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: December 19, 2017

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Submitted: December 19, 2017

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Turning herself towards the mirror she feels something’s so weak and worn

The face, her body cries oh wait why’s she flinching?

An impression is imprinted on her cheeks and she is enchained

All had been lost... All had been lost… nothing was gained!

Who is she? A woman who cries behind the doors and complain, oh no

The one who sighs silently, strikes the hiccups, winces at her existence

Why I am in this world why was I born?

To whom she should voice her voice, to whom she narrate

Where has she ended to, by that skydive to this deep down earthly state?

Hell to the bridal twinkling jewelry, the best women, the jingling bangles,

The warm welcomes, the swarm of guests and all those dings and dangles!

She is in the darkest corner of her room; the room once decorated; flowered, illuminated

But Shshsh… quiet… look where’s she now; was that all for what she’s waited?

To call her tired, meek, silent, unsatisfied, unhappy and frustrated!

Domestic violence is intense and men have no heart

I wonder when their superiority complex would dash and dart!


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