She had been Weeping

I wonder if she had been weeping,

The tears of frustration,

Of ages of being misjudged,

Misunderstood and neglected.

All of those years,

So exasperating,

Where she had been forced,

To fight all of her battles alone,

Some against injustice, some against hatred.

I wonder if she had been weeping,

The tears from the pain of those wounds,

She had endured in the war,

All these years,

Some fresh ones, some bruised ones,

Some bleeding ones, some long-forgotten ones,

Yet yielding some deep scars.

Scars given by her supposed protectors.

I wonder if she had been weeping the tears of agony,

A pure melancholy of betrayal,

And of impure intentions,

Of broken hearts and of nasty suspicions.

All of those hideous words,

She had buried deep in her heart,

Are now bubbling to the surface,

Causing her to scream, to wail aloud.

I have seen her go through some excruciating moments, 

All gut-wrenching and heart shattering.

I have seen her tear struck face,

More times than, I have ever seen her lips curl upwards.

But, now i know, all this while,

She had been weeping the tears of her fight.

Her valiant struggle against all the unfairness,

She had been subjected to.

Her courageous resurgence against the stagnant society.

She had been weeping the tears,

Of unfathomable wounds and pains,

She had endured.

She now wears all of those scars as diamonds in her crown.