By – Gayatri Agarwal
Waiting for transport, I saw the police,
Saviours I thought;
Little did I know;
That lift would bring four months of rot.
My father I thought was my King,
But turns out,
He’s not even worth being called a human being.
Was being from the tribal community a sin?
Because those men in uniform always had a grin;
Which made me feel like a waste bin.
Do our lives not matter?
My soul feels wholly shattered.
Was I born to keep those men entertained?
It’s like my body was utterly chained;
Then I realized;
I live in a world where exploiting & power have always gained.
Imagine a 13-year old having a foetus;
Yes, that’s how desperate was their p*nis;
But how do I blame them?
When I couldn’t even look at my father without shame.
But I don’t want you to remember my story as;
A girl who went from a fair to her worst nightmare;
But as the one who survived even with so much to bear.
Penfluky 