The Free Bird
After nine months and nine days
I thought I would be free
to see the light,
to feel something more
around.
The fragrance, the love,
The embrace.
The ninth day
when I saw the bright light,
the man turned his face
the woman was depressed
the silence prevailed.
I was made to cry,
I remember the pinch
of those rough fingers
and no one cared
about the scares
they left behind.
The ninth year I remember,
when the other male
took away my smile,
breaking my doll.
I was told not to cry
I have to live
the way it is.
At nineteen,
I could feel the same pinch but,
now eyes overtook the fingers
penetrating more deeper.
I was told to ignore
Because that’s the way it is.
At every instance
I was made quiet
I had no rights
to say how I feel.
Days passed,
so did years.
The man who
turned his face,
I left his home.
who broke my doll,
was not with me anymore.
I entered the new cage.
The new foible.
I learned to be quite
but now,
I have to break the silence,
it can’t replicate
I want my ‘Daughter’
to be a ‘free bird’