She was lying on the floor bleeding,

With anguish and remorse feeding.

Tears were strolling down her eyes,

For now, she knew her happily married life was a lie.

She slowly got up and sat against the wall,

And saw her dreams and aspirations fall.

Her eyes were swollen, her lips were cut,

And blood was streaming down her face.

She felt weak and she felt hurt,

She wished to scream and engulf the world.

The rain outside expressed nature’s grief over her sorrows,

Numbly she thought of the coming painful tomorrows.

Flinging the door wide open came running her five-year-old son,

With a broad smile, holding a plastic gun.

When he saw her mother he got scared,

He said, “Ma, how did you get hurt?” and kissed her forehead.

Though abused, beaten and shaken she hugged me tightly,

And casually said,” Nothing son, I just fell from the stairs.” 

-Yashika Kant

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