Her crooked story!

Her eyes are lachrymose
Or may be she’s just too fatigued
Her smile is too artificial.
Or maybe it’s hiding her abomination
Her clothes are too gaudy
Or maybe she doesn’t much care about fashion trends...
Her skins like a glazed brown rubber
Or maybe she just rubs it furiously to cleanse herself of the dirt within
Her frame looks too emaciated
Or maybe she can’t gulp down food after what is being rammed inside her mouth
Her lips never utter a word
Or maybe she accepted the fact nobody would listen to her pain.
Her gait carries the burden of misfortune
Or maybe she’s just had a long night at work.
Her child’s uncared for
Or maybe it’s just an occupational hazard
Her thoughts are vague
Or maybe she’s learnt not to think about her ordeal
Her emotions are few
Or maybe her heart has more scars than the marks on her body.
Her soul is soiled
Or maybe its just the need to survive
So now
She sits naked on her rickety bed
Breasts firm on droopy thin shoulders
Legs wide apart…
Waiting for money
Waiting for him
Waiting for redemption
Waiting for freedom
Or maybe just the end of this wretched night…..
© 2007 by Zaid