She, the delicate petal.,
Puts up a smile ,.
Though the thorns prick her sweet heart.
Constrained to put society forward.,
Herself beneath.,
Works like the busy bee.
Pinky soles aching bad,
Creamy fingers becoming harder.,
Yet no regrets peeping out,
Looking daggers at the flirts.,
Ignoring the criticism ,
And holding to the mere self respect,
She, returns home at dawn.,
Pleasantries for the loved ones,
Longing for warm hug in return,
Breaking her expectation,
the hands of her better half ,
Gripping her tight.,
Not once conserned about her exhausting body.,
But of his own pleasure.,
Lures her into dark pleasure..
The tears drip down her cheeks.,
Wondering the existence of equity and equality
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