“Wild Grass On An Infertile Land”

Whenever i excogitate about my ipseity,

I comprehend it is cipher for the world,

Whenever perpend to reckon my caliber,

I observe it to subsist solely to advantage of the men,

My fore bearer was abandoned for she could not parturitate a son,

And was surmised infertile,since a female offspring is just a wild grass

on an infertile land.

The wild grass grows and is an albatross on the progenitors,

While a well cultivated son is a resource to the progenitors,

When the wild grass grows the albatross becomes all the more copious,

And the progenitors have to squander dough to shift the albatross,

The new proprietors endeavor to  acquire benefit,

And start making hay from the wild grass,

The proprietors decussate me in the bandwagon they want,

For ages i have been subjected to a life with no rights ,

My thoughts are alien,my body belongs to the potent in my life,

And my soul is petrified to panoply that it subsist.

By-Neha Raghuvanshi


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