She could not scratch nor could she bite,
For the chains of responsibility towards his family bound her with might.
She huffed and puffed and did her chores,
Though pretending love, he hated her to the core.
To break the damned shackles she shouted and yelped,
But none of the dictators took mercy and helped.
She soon grew tired and forsaken,
For to her no kindness had been given.
Finally after years the help came,
By the time, she with grief and exhaustion had almost become insane.
The Saviour was of the family of the dictators,
But she did not have coursing through her veins their blood cursed.
Her eyes welled with tears when she saw her plight,
For giving her freedom she promised to fight.
She teamed up with her and waged a war,
Though there were many an enemy their will was tall.
For many days the battle was on the loose,
In the end the two won though they were battered and bruised.
The opponents faced a terrible defeat,
The winners sighed with joy and relief.
And though she was tired and many injuries she had got, she laughed
For she had won the freedom for which she had always fought.
My grandmother was a victim of improper domestic behaviour by her husband and his side of family. She could not go anywhere without her husband, not even to her own house. Only when my mother opposed this strongly and fought against the relatives of my grandfather, could she get freedom. In India, there are many such women who suffer like this or even in a worse manner. This poem is for those women. I do not know or care whether it is a good or bad poem. But please write reviews on this poem as it would help me make it more beautiful and influence more people.
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