It is always about the priorities, they say.
Sometimes its about the emotions that drive you away.
It is said, its always the bigger things that matter,
Small things are tucked under them as the latter.
The little mistakes here and there that you rue,
Stick to your past with the strongest glue.
Its about those sinister smiles that never leave your side,
From which you can neither run nor you can hide.
Its always about the society, you see?
Ignoring you with indifference, trashing all your pleas.
Its about the four people that would care,
And not about those filthy, disgusting stares.
They feel only possible way out,
Is to hand her over to a family without a second doubt.
For them, it is all a matter of pride!
To drain everything they can, from the bride.
For the girl’s family, it is about keeping the so-called name of ancestors,
And not about those troublesome pesters.
Its not the delicate girl that they need,
Its the golds and riches they pay heed to.
Bulks and bulks are never enough,
Life of the girl is always rough.
Those lovely rosy lips are meant to be stitched with silence,
Mind and body bearing the unbearable violence.
The blades and needles just work on the flesh and skin,
Its the depression and helplessness that kills the soul deep within.
But she finally gets rid of that pain,
For she is, in the best possible way, slain.
Since that day, she is free from all the boundaries and pests,
As, in a graveyard, under the flowers, she finally rests.