The description and poem are given below.
This difference has given rise to a social evil where women and girls are sold by their family members so that they can fill their stomachs for a few months. Deep down they know what the fate of their daughters would come to be.
This poem is inspired by a news report where over 21 girls were rescued form two different brothels, out of which 16 girls are underage.
The touch is punishing,
And hard to understand,
An eleven year old tied to the bed by her hands,
In an age to play with dolls, going to school and jumping through the rain,
Her parents sold her,
What a shame!
If only they weren't so desperate for money,
And tried their hands at work,
If only they hadn't taken the easy way out,
Her face now would have never been covered with dirt.
No one could hear their daughter shout....
Be damned such parents!
Be damned such poverty!
Everyone deserves a happy ending,
This is not how it's supposed to be.
But this is what the world tells them they are,
Flesh traders bound to be scarred.
Who are they to determine their fate?
While they sit in AC offices watching TV,
And click their tongues,
On seeing their faces being highlighted in shame.
No one gives them another chance,
No one gives them another glance,
This is very wrong,
This is very wrong.....
Poetry by Kshiti Dubey
Read 480 times
Written on 2011-08-12 at 15:11
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Brittle
India is a country of diverse cultures and varying standards. Multiple echelons determine how an individual should stay or behave. They silently determine the people's rights, whereas the government plays the tune of being the world's greatest democracy to the entire planet. The poor peasants starve while the rich throw their food out the window.This difference has given rise to a social evil where women and girls are sold by their family members so that they can fill their stomachs for a few months. Deep down they know what the fate of their daughters would come to be.
This poem is inspired by a news report where over 21 girls were rescued form two different brothels, out of which 16 girls are underage.
The touch is punishing,
And hard to understand,
An eleven year old tied to the bed by her hands,
In an age to play with dolls, going to school and jumping through the rain,
Her parents sold her,
What a shame!
If only they weren't so desperate for money,
And tried their hands at work,
If only they hadn't taken the easy way out,
Her face now would have never been covered with dirt.
No one could hear their daughter shout....
Be damned such parents!
Be damned such poverty!
Everyone deserves a happy ending,
This is not how it's supposed to be.
But this is what the world tells them they are,
Flesh traders bound to be scarred.
Who are they to determine their fate?
While they sit in AC offices watching TV,
And click their tongues,
On seeing their faces being highlighted in shame.
No one gives them another chance,
No one gives them another glance,
This is very wrong,
This is very wrong.....
Poetry by Kshiti Dubey
Read 480 times
Written on 2011-08-12 at 15:11
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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 by Kshiti Dubey Latest textsA follow up on ‘Worthy’Worthy Remember Emotions Dear Life |
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