3 Poems by Megha Sood

Living Nightmare ( Child Sex Trafficking)

 

She was snatched from the

warm embrace of her mother

joy rides from her father

from her cradle of innocence

naked,

she stands now

stripped of her emotions

 

Baring her broken and shattered soul

at every lecherous eye

and fornicated look

she is a grown up woman

too early too soon

 

Her pretty little dolls have

scratches on her face

and stained with the

memories of the dark moon

 

Her pure soul

is still denying  the

blisters on her body

she still can’t believe her ears

when people call her whore

 

Licking her wounds every day

and dolled up for the night

she has got pretty good

at hiding her sores

 

The dream of that

fairytale prince and

the first time rapturous kiss

has been shattered

so many times more

 

She still has faint memories

of the sun

drenching her face

jumps in the puddle

to scare away those frogs

 

But no matter how much she

screams and screeches

her reality is slowly

turning into the

a living nightmare

she abhors.

 

© Megha Sood

 

 

 

 

An exercise in futility 

 

Be a ladylike,

eye pleasing appearance

enough to gulp down the lies

down your swan bottled neck

oh! only to be bejeweled by the pearl necklace

and the bright possessions

he dons you with

 

Don’t bother to breathe

when it’s not ladylike

that your chest heaves violently

to the truth you fail to contain in

It’s not social to use expletives in your

aristocratic language

you will be burned at the stake

for speaking your truth

your scraps will be fed to wolves

 

Don’t wear your truth on your sleeves

which is naked and bold

it can’t hold a gaze

with their shameful eyes

too hard to please;

too simple to ignore

 

Sit with your legs crossed

my mom used to say.

don’t let that pointy opinions of your

evade your crisscrossed arms

to become an easy prey

 

Don’t give them enough reasons

your piercing opinions

to point at your ribcage

they will choke you with

their blatant lies

will tear your heart apart

with their hungry eyes

 

Oh! look at him

he is remorseful

with his flagrant lies

he goes to church on Sundays

lives with his two daughters and his wife

that is enough for him to

seek the blessings of the male privilege

those damn vultures in disguise

 

Where the validity of your truth never mattered

it would never be

your reality will always be a grain of sand in

their eyes of ignorance

too hard to ignore

too painful to acknowledge.

an exercise in futility.

 

© Megha Sood

 

 

 

 

Saintly ( Social Inequality)

 

Failed virtues of the people today

nothing can be fixed 

going to church every day

 

You’re a Catholic

and I’m pious

and we still have our fingers 

dipped in the blood 

of our desires

 

What makes you more saintly than me I ask

Oh! I pray and confess twice in the last pass

I repent my sins 

and donate to charity 

to evade taxes 

cause I can’t stand in the stinky lines

of the soup kitchen

to feel those empty glances 

 

I’m looking at the God

and still stripping you with my eyes

they say I’m a man of the cloth

who has burned every desire

 

Lighting up candles

kneeling to make my wishes come true

I can kill a person’s desire to live

but I can make a saint out of you.

 

Reading the holy scriptures

and accepting the truth in the gospel

we are camouflaging so beautifully

hiding the devil so well.

 

So what makes you feel

so saintly and

makes me a devil

please, pray tell.

 

© Megha Sood

 

 

 

 

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