It was just another day, and she dressed to go to work,
Her long dark her she tied up in a bun…
As she stole a glance at her watch, she gave a little smirk,
She was late and she had to run!
Her name was “”, it was not her choice of names,
Since it rhymed with funny things!
People would use her name to play stupid games,
In her mind, she’d give them flings!
Today she had to clean that family’s household,
It was the place she liked more than others,
She spent hours talking to granny; she was so old!
And she played with the sister and her brothers!
As she mopped the floor with her witch-like broomstick,
She hummed songs of love and joy…
One of the kids pulled on her a little trick,
And she slipped and stumbled on a hidden toy!
She smiled and continued to work; dusting was next,
A drop of sweat falling down on to her forehead,
On that desk she came across a paper with a text,
Held it in her hand as she slowly rested on the side of the bed…
She read:
“My life is a delicate guitar, its strings are beauty and love,
Yet when I play I hear no sound!
I look into the skies, way up above,
And yet I see nothing around!”
Footsteps getting closer, she can hear them now,
She had to get up and dust!
She needed to find a way out somehow,
But she was caught up in the word’s lust!
“What are you doing?” She heard a scream!
“How dare you read my stuff”?
Her face turned red, she wished it was a dream,
“Get out now, enough is enough!”
She gathered her things and out the door she went,
With thoughts of what she had read floating in her mind,
Her pain she twisted and into a smile her lips she bent,
It is time to go back home and her fears to unwind…
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