A Fine Wine

She wasn’t like others
Little odd and versatile
She wasn’t thin or pretty
Neither tall or fair
The world just saw her through
Neglected and unwanted
She chose her own religion
Her scriptures speaking blasphemy
Bullied and pushed around
Hated on and lied to
She was told she was ugly
Name calling left her barely alive
Not chosen for any of the games

She was a ten year old
What would that tender heart know
How did it hold so much grief
Through every blink of its eyes
With no friends by her side
Pointing at her freckles
And finding ways to elude
Reading definitions from the world
That poisoned every inch of her soul

Grew up to be a woman
Accepting what the world failed to see
She wore her grim eyes
Brightening up different lives
Shaded by her confidence
And proved she was no longer fragile

For the tender leaves to bloom
The roots had to be buried down
She planted her sorrow
Watered her tears
Studious and wild
Prominent in all eras
Put her looks aside
Settled in life with the love of her life
Who didn’t mind her dullness
Only read love in her eye

She heard no more lies
Didn’t care to look back
There was no time to trade shoes
All grown up now
Wise and not mild
Learnt the art of treasuring
What’s her by her side
Everything fell in place
That’s all that mattered
She kept walking the mile by
Bidding this weird world goodbye.

M.I. Safra

A girl with a loud mind who is in love with words. Writing for passion while crafting for profession.


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