Painting of Kamala Vasuki
It’s a bright Sunday morning
A girl sits down to think
About the things she has faced
All through her life
She thinks of the battle and the scars
And about those who don’t seem to understand
Where she stands
She cries out for help
But they act deaf
She sheds her tears
And they shut their eyes
Everyday she thinks she can tell her feeling
But she just ends up bleeding
The scars are many
The helpers are few
The hurt is bad
That makes her sad
She expects a lot
But ends up getting shot
Every time she thinks she’s got what she wants
She seems so happy
That she goes back into being a baby
But It’s all short lived
When she realizes that it just stays for two minutes
She’s scared to open her mouth
Because she knows that they will shout
But who else has she got
Still, it makes no difference to them
And they don’t want to treat her like gem
If anything happens, they pull out her past
And that’s something that they all do so fast
Night falls and she goes to her bed weeping
Hoping to tell her story untold
That makes her feel so cold
Santhira Nimalan Tamilselvi
