Didn’t your conscience prick you,
Before committing this deplorable deed,
The excruciating pain I was going through ,
Your lust being the reason of my heavy bleed.

Don’t you have a mother?
Or was I not your sister?
Didn’t their face flash before your eyes?
What if this was done to your sister guys?

Fingerprints and stains ,
From your touches and pains,
Will give me a life of embarrassment and shame,
And I didn’t even know your names.

Any number of baths won’t hide,
The dreads and horrors that was going inside,
I can’t breathe with embarrassment by my side,
I was living but within me I died.

“Leave me,” I loudly said,
But you roped me to the bed,
I screamed a loud outside and in my head,
Thank you for not leaving me until I was dead.

I was a just feeble creation,
Upon whom you have unleashed your man power,
My own people got scared to even glance my wounded body during my final shower,
I saw them hitting their heads and chests crying hard when they took me for cremation.

                                                             ~ Gulnaaz Saif
                                                                Bhadrak, India

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