Her cheeks were bright,
Her eyes were deep,
Her lips were soft,
Her hairs were tied...
Her hands were cold
Little and loving to hold
On one fine winter which she told...

She danced with the winds,
Kissed the red roses,
Walked along the lonely streets,
Snapped with different poses..
Never she felt lonely
And smiled like the flower
And felt like a pearl with the shell as protective cover...

The winters were good,
But the time never stood..
When she realised to her nature was rude,
The winds she danced with made her skin brittle..
The roses she kissed made her lips bleed a little,
With the smiles she has forgotten her laughter,
And the shell was no more to look after..

Then came the spring,
Which felt like a sting..
As coming out of the shell shaked her being..
She laughed at herself,
And thought to love her own self..
She untied her curls,
With chafed lips she laughed with the pals..
She opened her arms,
To feel the nature and its charms..
Like a bird she felt
And thought to fly until death.....
-Sangita Chatterjee
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