She

An aspiring soul,

Curved within four walls,

Wanting to fly,

With torn wings,

A traveller mind,

Trekking recklessly,

Knowing no bounds,

Visiting every corner,

But inside the boundaries.

Society adorned the terminology of 'She'.

Yes, it was 'She' who was handcuffed,

It was 'She' who was scarred,

Hidden inside the chambers.

But it was all so normal,

Since it was 'SHE',

But a male child,

Was beyond imagination,

Of such apathy.

'She' regretted,

Of not being a 'He',

Chopping off all her unwanted hair,

'She' pretended her best,

But failed to comply with the social stylo set.

Typical feminine hands,

Forbidden from holding a pen,

But 'She' was a born writer,

Just in the unfit hour.

Her limits were chalked out,

At an age,

When she aspired to fly,

'She' was made to understand,

This was her destiny,

'SHE' was a female,

Inferior to male.

Like a burden,

She was bartered away to another hell,

At eight,

'SHE' knew what being naked was,

But "wife" was an excuse,

And her tongue was a sniped bridge,

And mouth stitched.

Disguised from the outer world,

'SHE' was a showcase item,

In her known world.

'She' was killed every day,

Until it came to an ultimate end,

But for society,

It was the righteous fate,

Of every s'he'.