My Girl,the world you live in
will not be as bad as mine
You will not've to
scream your lungs out
to let people know
pains, a lot of them
and fights, your mother fought
just to give you the Life
you deserve.
By then, I would have lost my voice
making them learn to listen.
You would not've to
beg and plead in delirium
to make people understand
you as a woman
who suffers at every crossroad.
By then, I would have trained
a mile of people who understand a woman.
But, still I cannot promise you
My Girl,
that I 'll be able to reduce your woman-pain,
Yet I promise you this much sweet love
YOU, would not've to
bare your body stark naked
up for a public display,
to satisfy them of the age-old scars
that only this body has suffered.
Till then, I bleed
every drop in me,
like drops of dew from the early winter morning
and I will try to make the world
a much better place for you to live in...
P.S. - I know this poem isn't aesthetically good, rather it can't be called a poem perhaps, still it serves some of my purpose.
