She Was An Ordinary Woman

She was an ordinary woman, 
Living the very ordinary life that she inherited.
She was seven years old, when her mother told her,
"Beware, in this lousy world of men who never spare,
Even the slightest chance to humiliate,
First physically
Then verbally,
Till you are broken down, mentally."

She grew up, living in the dilemma
Whether to flap her wings and fly in the open,
Or to put them into shredder all by herself?
Should she be scared to live?
Or live to get scared?

But she, decided to live,
Not for the sake of brutally humiliating her dreams to death.
But for giving her inner human a second chance.
Of being fierce, free and flying.

Now, she was a grown woman.
A woman who woke up with the noise,
Of her neighbours beating their daughter.
A woman, who was harassed on the roads,
While a man pinched her butt, swayed through her thighs,
Saw her with the glare,
That one couldn't bear.
She was an ordinary woman.

She went to teach a few children,
Few adolescent, growing children,
Who kept staring at her in the places, which demeaned her.
She loved to dance, she loved to perform,
Express her soul in a way.
She could not express verbally, come what may.
But she was addressed as a prostitute!
Dancing to earn and fill her physical and erotic desires.
She was an ordinary woman.

While she tackled her angels and demons inside,
She dealt with all the demons around her.
One day they internationally proclaimed to be her day.
A Woman's Day.
But that was the day, few men came around,
Took her to an isolation.
And brutally ripped off not just her clothes,
But also the wings that one grew, the smile she once bore,
But now left with a bruised body,
Demeaning existence,
And her hear left numb yet sore.

But no, she was just an ordinary woman.
Who was taught,
To worship men.
To be and exist in a line.
"She was just an ordinary woman"