Women’s Day

Here is the day when I think I would be loved,
when people would theoretically not show the lust.

Some might be aggressive, others may not,
a point when society would definitely flaunt.

Banners and the shows will be at heights,
blogs will develop some beautiful insights.

Words will soothe each and every soul,
but actions hardly annul, and there, burns a coal.

The smoke would roast the comforting hearts,
pain of faking and trust departs.

Women is the power, termed as goddess,
than why treated, such a mess?

Restrictions accompanying caged feelings,
submerging with some alien healing.

Aren’t we supposed to be loved no matter how we are
why to change when we are beautiful, no matter how we are!

Why to pretend and show the greed,
life has turned the aftermath proving sacredly poignant creed.

It a request, with the loudest cry
please don’t treat us with a shame, give one genuine try.


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