The story of her life

She wipes the sweat from the brow,
her hands suffer everyday blow,
She smiles through pain,
and hopes to bargain
a life better for her children,
a pucca house,
a caring spouse.

Life can never be simple
when money as little
flows just as a trickle
slipping into crevices in mockery;
a debris of unending poverty

Tides of sorrow rise in count
sprinkling little joys, as pittance.
Seeking the shore, hopes surmount
only to break in an even dance

A happy home is all she wants,
but is far from what she gets
Mind and body sport several scars
given by the mister, a rouge above par

The house crumbles under, 
when children too move afar
all the trouble now seem in vain
for alas! she lost the bargain.



10 comments:

  1. I loved the second para especially! A life which does not have much hope, feel sorry for her plight.

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    Replies
    1. I too feel for their tribe..its really sad..:-(

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  2. Replies
    1. true..Archana..how have you been? Landed on your blog to see that you've switched to wp. Will visit at leisure..:-)

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  3. You write poetry too ? Well penned . :)

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