Sunday, March 23, 2014

A different girl



I heard a story, perhaps a concocted one
Known to few or known to none
A different girl, she was, very different indeed
She was the one ready for anyone in need
She was candid, unequivocal were her thoughts
Though seemed unpleasant to the coterie of bigots
But she was intangible to fetters of obligations, ever
They all say her different, but why, she bothered never
I heard a story, perhaps a concocted one
Known to few or known to none
She used to dance on the music of blowing wind
And with the music of rain drops, she used to sing
To this world of limitations, strange relations
She was the one laughing, no hesitations
All said she was different, yes indeed she was
She used to watch her feet, not to hurt the grass
I heard a story, perhaps a concocted one
Known to few or known to none
She was frank, she was thoughtful, she was gracious
Confident and prudent, nothing fallacious
Calmed and composed as the water
Making the viewer look its reflection
People find her just of their own type
No one could fathom her deep perception
I heard a story, perhaps a concocted one
Known to few or known to none
People claimed to know her, she used to laugh
She was a puzzle, a glass’s filled or empty half
She was convoluted, lucid at same time
She was the ray of hope, nature’s best rhyme
She was different, but not for the reasons known
She was a free bird, knew no rule, had dreams of her own
I heard a story, perhaps a concocted one
Known to few or known to none
With wings of free thoughts, and pen & paper as tools
She challenged orthodox systems, rules of fools
She proved to be different, not succumbing to world’s swirl
She had no name, she was just another girl
I heard a story, perhaps a concocted one
Known to few or known to none















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