Sunday Poem By Amita Ray

Sunday Poem By Amita Ray

Marginalised

In the bleeding sap of life you hide your gaping wounds deep down in solitary recess your affront surges wells up a tsunami of trauma your fury mute, impotent. You-the marginalised were born to be battered, not utter dominated, not equated, decimated, not assimilated, in the tinkle of anklets jingle of bangles resonates the clank of iron fetters, repressed womanhood kisses your bejewelled waist girdle the existence a journey through hissing serpentine coils blessed are you if not nipped in the bud! The agony rises steep in the curve stereotype hushed up wrongs piled vent clamour for face of justice masked- History repeats itself in shame retold.