She wore a skirt too short and a top with a long neck and she topped it off with a bold lip, the shade of dark red. She had lovely eyes, their expression - deep and somewhere in the profundity was hidden a vault full of dreams. Her smile was her strongest allure, a spring of courage and hope. Her steps spoke of elegance, a beauty like a blooming Grove. She walks alone on her bed of thorns, earns every penny and builds her home. She sweats to hold her world in place but they see only the man entrancing perfume. They abused her mom for her dearth of sense. In the world of man how dare she carry a lip so red!?
Mom is a lone mother raising her child. Feeding her smiles gulping her cries. She works like her father but dresses like a wife. She is a business lady all day long but when shadow falls she's back to being a mom. Time flew in these busy ways. She taught her little one, one by one : hope, struggle and life. Alas! She forgot the quintessential thing that character dances atop the wedding ring, and it's estimate is done on the scale of skirt length.
The beauty walked in a restaurant to dine.
The people there were dazzled by her shine.
The street boys did whistle and jeer a little.
The gentlemen cast an admiring glance.
But it was the women alas! who started to belittle.
Gossip proliferates on ladies' tables. And only the own can betray!
They slandered her disposition and reduced her with all her dreams,
To a mere provocative being.
The spring of hope became a source of seduction.
The doomed kind who ask for attention.
So they made her a creature who asked for it.
For brutal assaults and filthy advances.
And an excruciating torment before being killed
and burnt to ashes.
Ha! Preposterous this world truly is,
Jealousy dominates reason.
While you malign her repute keep in mind, your words shall ricochet and trap you in your own snare. If you want to fly free don't try to cut someone else's wings else your own deeds your chains shall be.
Support and empower together we rise.