The Maiden

I ask,

Why a woman is a frailty in nature?

Why there's no depth of heart to measure?

Anyone can't so, even I

harness the truth until we die.

I ask,

Why there's a maiden is like a brothel?

Shaking her body makes everybody hail.

Why her tears are hidden behind the curve line,

That we call a fake smile.

I ask,

To accept the new why not,

We accept only what's good in the pot?

I ask those people, why we can't,

Give them a place in our heart, not in our pant?