By: Khushi Tripathi

They always see an angry daughter,
But never see her dead laughter,
Not her cries, not her tired mind,
How she used to fly like the wind.

They never see how she is breaking again and again,
She is tired, broken, alone, yet she can’t trust someone again.
They see how she seeks attention outside,
But they never saw how they treated her here inside.

They see her broken state, her tired body,
But they never know why she hates everybody.
They see her tired state as laziness,
But they refuse to see her struggles, her dizziness.

Her heart breaks apart every day,
Yet she tries to do her best with a broken heart.
Something burns inside her so damn bad,
She wants to fly from this cage like a bird.

They hate why she is so damn free,
But she is hurt every day—a side they refuse to see.
When she laughs, she laughs freely and pure,
She has a heart of gold, that’s what I am sure.

She carried so many burdens, her soul hurts,
Yet they blame her and say it’s her fault.