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Bruised I

Bruised I

Felt bleed within and pillow my wiper,
As hath none who doth care.

Acheth heart and blood oozed eye,
Beside phone and numbness silence,
Companion of my deep den,
As she hath gasped like a tigress ,
Upon my every talk n cry,
Only because taketh me her leisure,
And my acheth soul her pride.

Asked she never what ails me? 
Why my nerves bad n hair flaunting beside comb,
Even my luster fades,breasts crushed,
Walk turned limp,talk a babble,
Why didn't she took notice ,why didn't? 
Is it only I a woman not a man,
Not an earner or a burden,
Yes Im woman ,grace n pride of a home,
Needeth clad of care n devotion. 

Wouldn"t be happy by golden enameling
Unless and until treated with love and grace


Written by: Sakeena Jabeen - A poet from J&K's Pulwama

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