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The Trophy Wife: Alice

Wednesday, November 09, 2016 , 10 Comments

She felt naked
As if robbed of every thread
Off her body, stark

Weary of any words
spoken and heard

expressions became futile
comprehension, a meaningless harp.
just pleas escaped her mouth.
as things turned dark

She looked down
Deep down of bathos disgrace
Her eyes piercing in ground
Unable to bear her own reflection

Tears flew down
hot, drizzling like water
on dry sand.
The dessert of her heart
wry further with the draught
Parching her eyes
heart wrenching cries,
Without a moist.

She pleaded to let go
Pleaded, pleaded till she could bore
The agony of her own demeanor.
ready for the pfysical blow
if they let her go.

She locked herself inside the door
Laid there like an alive corpse.
Feeling betrayed and Morose.
She could breath
but can't acknowledge the sound
amidst her furtive sobs.

The hands that once cajoled her,
Snuggled and shown comfort.
Are now raised
to show feeblish of gender
muting her dignity to arrogance


Time could turn benovalence,
into mental violence.
Explain your ignominy,  if you could

But then words fails you
And seek no reliance.
The one who could not understand them,
What would they learn from your silence.

-----------------------
Stop violence against anyone.  Whether women,  dog or any other alliance.  You may not know the brutality of your actions. And the hearts that suffers it, may lack the expressions in words.  

The autor is half Human, half machine. Go Figure or just revel in what I write

10 comments:

  1. Haunting yet beautiful ! You are gifted :)

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    Replies
    1. Thank You :) yes, this is my gift ;)

      Delete
  2. This is an issue which always needs to be spoken about.

    ReplyDelete
  3. There seems to be so much violence everywhere. Why do people need to hurt others? Glad you speak out.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Off late, people justify their actions through violence or is it the deeper frustration that comes out via violence :(

      Delete
  4. The things women suffer in silence. We paint our faces and smiles with all is well while we bury another dream next to a bruise.

    ReplyDelete

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