Photo: Clarita
Poetry

Forced

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How does it feel to be forced in this way?
How can anyone know?
Unless she is the one upon whom it is forced
She looks down at the drop and wonders…

She did used to dream of her prince on a horse
A handsome young man who would lift her veil
Demure, in love, desirous of him
She would feel every emotion within

Did not turn out to be so, she reflects
To be forced in this way she did not foretell
Am I so worthless you gave me away?
She looks down at the drop and wonders…

She would have worn flowing cascades of silk
His eyes would have followed the henna’s trail
If she had chosen her eternal love
A tender kiss would have sealed their fate

Love did not enter the proceedings at all
Freedom to choose was never part of the deal
I am your baby, how could you feed me to the lion?
She looks down at the drop and wonders…

Forced into submission, forced to obey
Forced to oblige in every way
Liberty, freedom, they were there all along!
As at the bottom of the drop, in a heap she lays

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