The Halved Half

They look at your house,

They look at your wealth,

They weigh you in crores,

And that is how you're dealt.

They look at your stars,

They look at your moons,

Seeking for the perfect match,

And when it isn't, they croon.

They want you decked in gold,

Like you're a toy to be sold;

And they want you as pretty as you can be,

For all the eyes around that can see.

But oh! All you ignorant eyes!

Is there all that can ever be?

To the lovely maiden bride

Standing before thee?

Is a slightly crooked nose

Ever so mightily bad

Than a crooked soul can be?

Can the sparkle in her lovely eyes

So profound, Even comparable to 

An otherwise yellow metal and its glee?

Is there ever a warmth

So comforting like hers

That the magnificent mansions can keep?

Is there ever a love

So pristine and pure

That the printed notes can seek?

So open your eyes,

And look at her,

Look at her again!

Eye her with reverence

And with all honour

For it is not in your privilege

To look down with disdain.

For she is a woman 

With a spirit ever so high;

For she is not your caged parrot

But, a lark in the sky!