The Dark Red

Her mother told her when she was young,

And asked her not to tell anyone by her tongue;

It was a taboo for she knew,

But wanted to get rid of it as she grew.

At the age of thirteen she got it first,

Little did she know what happens next is worst;

Then her journey of being a woman started,

But was not allowed to sit wherever she wanted.

She suffered shrieking pains and peace is all she wanted,

And thought what type of ritual is it, where women are taken for granted;

One fine day she saw her mum doing the same,

It is for every women, even for a dame.

She went to school and stained her skirt,

And was embarrassed of it at first;

She started hating those days and prayed to God,

Let me live the life as it was, she begged to God.

She sat and pondered to do something about it,

In the dark pathways of the world alone she would walk and shout about it;

The world seems perfect is full of happiness and joy,

But this left the women just like a mere toy.

It is not a taboo but a God’s gift,

I wish this would make the minds’ lit.

It could not be kept long hidden from the world,

Because the colour is Dark Red.