There was once a young women.
She woke up everyday
Trying to be the best version of herself,
Trying to forget how cruel the world is to her,
Trying to avoid the flashbacks of ill treatment she received.
But no matter what
The young women knows that
She is called a women at that age where
Her male friends are still boys.
Boys, immature boys, boys who have the right to make blunders.
She is still a girl but a women,
For everyday people tell her how grown she is.
For every bus ride she gets uncomfortable stares,
And unnecessary touching,
And unavoidable callings.
Every walk to school she gets
Catcalled,
Stared,
Followed and
Harassed.
She blames her chest
Blamed her legs,
Blamed her face ,
Blamed her hands and hips.
She cut her fingers,
Cut her waist,
Cut her thighs and feet,
She saw them bleed the blood men craved for,
She then cut her shoulder and neck.
There she lies dead and happy
With a soft smile on her lips,
She looked lifeless and happy.
Happy for the freedom
Happy for she no longer has a body to be
Harassed with.
There was once a young women.
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PERSONAL POEMS
PoetryCollection of poems, few based on real life events. Includes sadness, suicide, love, thoughts, abuse, hope, pain and agony. Do vote and leave a comment if you liked it ;) Wish you a good reading xx
