SHE

She is not a sinner nor a saint, she is a fighter who has fought for her rights, she is a woman, she is a mother, she is a girl, she is a determined soul.

The world begins at her foot,

She is the pro creator, the root.

The evil says she is meek,

She is born to be oppressed, she is weak.

Her polite lips didn't utter a word,

The stupid society criticised her sword

Her gloomy eyes did quote her pain

And there was none to heal her strain.

The malignity consumed in her,

Burst out and claimed her share.

The passion to fight for her, apprised,

She was a rebel, she had sworn to be freed.

Her claim wasn't for property but for equality,

Her claim wasn't for war but for perspicacity.

With a little hope, she led her unanimous army,

Overpowered by courage, quite uncanny.

Many hands joined her troop,

She was an inspiration, it needed no proof.

The criticism didn't alter her will,

The bullets could neither make a hole nor could kill.

She paced forth, gave a hope for tomorrow,

Where exploitation is exploited,

And virtues prevail o'er vices, indeed.

No matter how worse the circumstances are,

Be the real you and demand your share cause nobody can understand your pain better than you.