Is it my Fault....

Tue, 03/02/2021 - 06:46 -- AemenH

I am a daughter
When I am born I bring Rehma to my parents
While growing up I help my mother with house chores
They call me the nightingale of the house
They say my chatter keeps the house alive
They say I am good luck to them
Once they get me married
They leave me as if I am a burden
A burden that they cannot carry anymore
I am feeble and weak but still I carry the burden
I am not strong but still left alone to fight
I loved them and cared for them but their love is hidden
Its hidden in the charade of their prestige
They want the world to respect them,
Even it means that I DIE inside
Even if it means that I will be gone forever
It is not my fault that I am a daughter
Your prestige is not linked with me
Let me live and let me fly...
Before its too late and the nightingale DIE...

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Our world
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