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