A girl was sitting in the train, She had the look of a strain And had the prick of a thorn, In her talk, a mentally worn, People had the right to censure, Enjoyed humiliating laughter.
She was a rape victim, Before, in a school was innocent, She was friendly with a guy, She didn’t know why. He offered her something to eat, To let her off in the street. She did not understand, What to her had happened, But her family had thrashed Her, for feelings betrayed, She left her only home To her faraway doom, She cursed the people known For a destination unknown, She wished to die alone.
Cigarettes, a delight for her, Men invited her for cheer. It was all for the waning girl, The crowd around her curled.
From ‘Serenading Poems Part One’
