A protest poem by Sarala, wherein she tells us about the sexual exploitation of a teenager by some dirty men, exclusively for Different Truths.

She was barely fifteen
A beautiful bud with rosy cheeks
Waiting to open
And shine and beam
In the world so beautiful!
Alas! She did not reach
Her sweet seventeen
Before that the cruel hands
Of men pulled, pushed and dragged
with whippings which made her body sore
promising her the heaven above
She pleaded and cried to no avail!
She was dumped into a
Stinking room with walls
Full of spit and lust
With stink of liquor high
She was tired and wept every day
but no one came except
the dirty men for her tender flesh!
She has grown old and tired
With sallow cheeks and sunken eyes
between the four walls called hell!
The birds never chirped
And cuckoos never sang
All what she heard was
The dance of the demons
In the graveyard so dreadful!
All her dreams remained
Shattered and buried
Under her own frail body
In that four walled room!

Photo from the Internet