The Girl Who Loved a Man

January 13, 2016 Creative Writing , Poems 10 Comments

I met this girl on my hallway, her name was Rose. She told that it was the original name given by her Parents and she does not like to be called by that name anymore. I asked her what is the good name that she liked to be called by? And she replied- Call me by any name as it doesn't matter to her anymore. I was taken aback by her cold stance. She was a pretty girl to look at. With Big eyes, full lips and a translucent skin tone, she looked every word the name her parents gave her. I turned my gaze to her eyes and could see a sea of emotions there. There was something about her that made me freeze in that moment and I kept looking at her face. 

There was something about Rose

Her dreamy eyes,

her long nose.

Her closed lips, close red fuller lips

wanted to tell me something.

Something that I wanted to ask her,

something she wanted to tell

but yet words failed us.

I looked in her eyes

Her deep brown eyes

Once full of dreams,

were grave as stone

her eyes haunted me.

They had love,

They had Passion

yet they were so devoid

of hope and expression.

I asked her what is she doing so late in the night and whom does she live with. She told she lived with her husband and many a things-

I live with my husband

man I once counted as my friend.

so deep was our relation

that can't help falling love.

Love that made her sail

Away from where she hail

to the man she loved,

the man she entrusted

all her heart,

her happiness and her future.

all the dreams she nurture

I asked what went wrong?

and she said-

Marriage.

Her one word told me a lot many things. I did not want to probe her hurt or add to her injury. Neither did I know how to help her. Indeed, I was concerned for her. 

Her eyes spoke many things 

without her talking,

her face was tired and white

due to all meaningless walking.

I asked her to return home 

it is not safe for her to roam. 

She nod in affirmation

and a resilient confirmation.

Her eyes spectacular of her pain

her beautiful face could not sustain,

the miseries that love brought to her

and as she said

She will never be self again.

She did not know what went wrong

even when there is love,

how could hatred prolong

Hence, she is searching for her answers

walking on that dark street alone.

She continues to wander every night,

pondering about her romantic twilight.

I often find her around

nursing her unseen wound.

The girl who loved a Man

the girl by name- Rose

or any other name you may call

A Rose is a Rose, is a Rose

If you meet her, do help her find the road to her home.

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Written this broadway freestyle prose and poetry for The Magpie Tale