(Author's Note: Another Oldie! Written at age 17 after bunking a boring Lecture. I can't recall what Lecture missed me, but I vividly remember sitting on our College Basket-ball court...hiding rather... and penning this for a Cul-fest competition during the year of 'The Girl-child'. My courage failed me and I didn't turn in the poem. I also got viciously marked 'Absent' for missing the Lecture. Reading it now, I see that I was a rather morbid Teen:-)
LITTLE GIRL OLD
Wake up girl, it's time to rise,
The sun’s gone down, don’t keep the guys
Well, come on girl,
Get on with your act
Put on your face,
Keep your smile intact.
She stretches, she yawns,
She smiles a sweet smile
Her dream, she remembers
Was of a lady singing a lullaby
‘O mother, O mother’, it’s just a sigh in the night
It rakes our souls, we wonder about her plight.
She rises, she dresses
What’s happening girl? Where are you going?
She smirks, no need for guesses
She walks into the night
An ethereal being, her perfume lingers in the air;
Makes us marvel, she seems without a care.
A man approaches, her step falters,
We see her shrink; she turns around
Desperately seeks you out
Her young old eyes a silent question:
Is this what living’s all about?
No, girl, no! You start to say
There’s a wonderful life,
You must find a way
Your words fall on deaf ears
She walks away,
She wipes her tears.
Why do you go on?
A rhetoric question…
She smiles sadly,
No way out of the situation.
Girl, give me an answer!
You wait…
Her young old eyes seek you out
‘It has been my fate,
Since I was sold at eight.’