20 Oct 2012


She takes her child to the play ground

leans on the rusty broken gate

the lonesome mother

watches happy families – complete

she is different, she is cheated, she is

counting the years;  the incessant footsteps leading

to struggle in a long and winding road - drowning

she forces a smile and waves back at her little one.

She feels her youth seeping through her fingers

falling with every dead strand of hair.