She was just 3.



And she was just 3,
When she had to hold a crayon and colour the world,
She held a scar and witnessed a war!

She was just 5,
When she had to cry and hear stories of a fairy fly,
She was filled with fear and could just let out a sigh.

She was just 7,
When she had to float the paper boat,
She just knew well, how her flaws would be taken in note.

She was just 10,
When she had to wait for the rainbow after the rain,
She exactly knew what a misery it was to be thrown over the lane.

She was just 11,
When she had to hate corn and flakes;
But rather was taught, unacceptable were mistakes.

She was just 13,
When she had to wonder of a pink dress with glittery pink shoe,
But she’d learnt the colours of dark and grey,
That nobody else knew!

She was just 14,
When she had to crack jokes of a father and his pet;
She had broken hopes and hid her eyes wet.

She was just 17,
When she had to wake up everyday to flatten her dream;
Though slept at nights burying under a pillow,
the noise of her scream.

She was just 18,
When she had to  dance near the waves and clap her hands on her own rave;
She found herself shut in doors and wished to dig in there, her own grave.

And then she turned another year old,
when life took a turn,
She got dumbed by her one,
Was beaten up until she turned numb,
Failures were something she couldn’t sum,
Sleepless nights were at the top of the drum,
And cruelty around her was something she couldn’t overcome!

She then snatched the paint and threw the colours,
Picked a sword and killed a demon,
Wore her fears with a glittery tear,
Kept the stars over the dark and grey,
Mumbled the cruelty and winked to the crimes,
Flaws she plants and stops the hurting hands,
Smiles at her grave which now has *misery* engraved!

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