A broken strap,
She holds her breasts back.
Boys check her like a meat
Though she gets back to the beat.
Running late for Work
She jumps onto the first bus
Heels waking up the office
She trembles to the notice
Walking sideways
Avoiding occupied bays
She acted like a Novice.
Eyes rummaging her sanctity,
Was it her number or singularity?
Walking into that cabin,
She heard herself shuddering.
Of Colleagues, Seniors & House Keeping
She hunted for that perfect hiding.
She ruffled her fears & made the noise
People called it Impatience', she called it Voice.
She ruffled her fears & made the noise
People called it Impatience', she called it Voice.
Her neat notes, her loyalty
Her presentations maintained anonymity,
Her hardships turned pale
Fake concern in charity?
Her hardships turned pale
Fake concern in charity?
Day 2 of her life:
Waiting by the bus stop
Waiting by the bus stop
She brushes her nails
Sharpens them actually
Hair untucked to neckline,
Bag transferred to front,
She chooses a darker Subway.
A day older,
She thinks she's smarter,
Finding a Blouse that's looser
She pushes the Red lipstick to last drawer...
Walking by the widest street
She decodes the reality,
It's neither her degree
Nor the sanity
It's not even her spirits
Never her popularity
Her existence was the trigger
Her curls, her blusher
She understood her waters
Indeed,
It is the shirt that matters.
- A Girl at Work
