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Posts Tagged ‘Prisoner of War’

In the night, they didn’t care about

All her dresses they tore.

In the morning, they call her names:

Slut, bitch and whore.

 

She was an object

Of concupiscence and pleasure.

If not for her curves and bust,

Would she be treasured?

She was alive,

Yet dead.

 

Unlike the men in her army

Who as soon as captured

Were beheaded,

She was locked up in a golden cage,

Touched by all,

Wore long gowns of silk

But was a mere rag doll.

 

Vaishnavi Sathish is yet to finish her schooling but has a flair for literature and fine arts. She lives in Pondicherry and has recently published a maiden collection of 39 of her poems under the title Sunflowers of the Dark.

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