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The Untargeted Victim
A little girl of five, sat in the corner;
Eyes closed shut, palms pressed over her tired ears—
An attempt to flee from her nonsense, noisy world
For dad and mom were shouting again, and the latter, was in tears.
She had always wondered what they were fighting for,
Neither had any toys, toffees or teddies
Yet they seemed so angry, so disturbed by the other,
They shouted curses and abuses and did nothing other than this.

The little girl of ten, sat curled in the corner;
Silent sobs filling the heavy air around her,
She wasn't alone but, nevertheless, felt lonely
The shouts being exchanged between her parents didn't make things better.
She wanted to run, she longed to escape,
Flee from the hatred and disgust between mom and dad;
Her home was never a home but always a house—
Lined with thorns of some wild, poisonous plant.

The young girl of fifteen, sat huddled in the corner;
Having been exhausted: both physically and mentally,
For she tried to stop them but was shoved off again,
Ordered not to meddle in matters that were 'elderly'.
'No!', she shouted, 'stop!', she screamed to the couple,
'This is torture that affects me more than it does to you!'...
But her voice was seldom heard, because their's were louder
So she returned to her corner, to have the misery brewed.

The young girl of eighteen, sat stretched in the balcony of her hostel;
She was alone but didn't feel lonely or miserable
She just wished not being lonely either when she went home during the holidays—
She is still waiting as God has blessed her with optimism.

© Sukanya Roy
#bleak life

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