By Abiraamy V
She was five when she made wishes over stars,
Smiling bright, sky high in zest and delight.
She ran across the streets, playing hide and seek,
Laughter was all she heard, she was just a dancing little bird!
At nine, she stood on the stool, staring at the mirror, trying to look cool.
Glitter clips, bracelets and coloured pencil boxes.
Faking stomachache and crying at little chances.
Life leapt too soon, and she was fifteen in the lapses,
She touched her acne marks sometimes, averting any glances.
She thrived to look, thrived to see what the world had for her and what she would be.
A princess in a carriage or a queen riding a horse?
She was just a dreamer, searching for the key to her doors!
Time metamorphosed when her dreams turned sturdy,
She dwelled in books, waiting to make money.
Heartbreaks, betrayal, a world full of fallacies,
Gone was the girl who believed in fantasies!
At twenty-six, life was a boon and life was a bane.
Boon for the money, bane, for this world was insane.
She looked for people, searched for substantiality,
She lived through moments seeking dinkum oil.
She was lost in her process of finding, had everything in hand, and yet sensed a void.
Where was she? In her wish over stars or her amusement over songbirds?
The sphere spun forward, she felt a tachysensia.
And at one such moment, she met a rose seller,
His eyes were too old, selling flowers like gold.
She brought a few red and pink roses, and he took a small sum for a pay,
Refusing to take more and giving her an extra white.
Red, pink and white, they looked like a little dream, like love at first sight!
Could she be generous? Could she be kind?
She was deranged with an ego so blind!
Wonder swept her soul, watching the man smile the widest, his wife then accompanied,
‘Red will suit you, young bird!’ said the old lady.
It did not matter, it shouldn’t have, but she discovered reality like a crack of dawn.
Two old people, selling flowers, kinder to the world, content with their life!
She walked a little, smiling a little more,
Heart clenching, pinching, twisting.
She heard the laughter of children,
A cheery breeze touched her skin,
The stars glinted brighter.
When she reached home, she finally cried,
Harder and harder, like raked by a tide!
What was she seeking, gold or dime?
Where did happiness lie?
She would laugh and smile tomorrow, for today she would cry,
She was dead in the yesterdays and today she was reborn.
In the eyes that were kind and smiles that loved beyond.
Was there a significance?
Was there a purpose?
She was a songbird that sang her despair,
Holding the flowers that saw her tears bare!
Tomorrow, she knew not,
Let today hurt her!