By Gospel Hruaizeli
I know a girl of seven
A beginner in the world,
With so much still ahead,
Still needing a guiding hand.
One day, I heard her prayers
Instead of wishing for unicorns,
She yearns for rest, a peaceful haven’s gain
Before her Dada arrived.
I know a girl of eleven
Who dreams of success.
She studied beneath streetlights,
Clutching her books tightly
Before her daddy comes home.
Running late at night,
She knocks on strangers’ doors,
Asking for a place to sleep.
Then wakes at dawn,
Preparing for school.
Yet her eyes stay fixed on the window,
Fearing her daddy might come.
I know a girl of sixteen
Going through silent changes.
She’s quiet, withdrawn, afraid.
She walks through broken paths,
But she tells no one
Because when she does,
Things only get worse.
I know a girl of nineteen
Fearing rejection from society and kin.
Expectations weigh heavy,
Yet support runs thin.
Even as the glass shatters,
She knows what must be done.
So she puts on a smile,
And hides the pain
Because she knows, yes, she knows:
Everyone’s busy with life.
And that’s just the way of the world.