The Faces.

The faces of the ordinary beings, The faces of the ordinary beings make me smile and smirk a little. Their lies of being honest, And carrying life’s burden, bitter and brittle. Laughing the loudest in a group, While hating the group with the same fixed look. Nowadays I believe the extraordinary beings, Who are bad, but do not sell honesty as meanings. Nowadays I talk with people who dare to change, Not the ones who change the dare, locked inside the range. A born one looking at the smile, wanders the best, While it gets the threat of the hungry society’s test. The society wears modernity, stitched and clever, But never lets women move, never lets women wear. The mighty husband shows love, calm and slow, But burns the wife with the stove’s silent glow. A mother’s promise, dusted to none, As the son sees her burn, and learns what is done. A lover’s promise thrown into the sea, As caste rules the myth of what love should be. The hopeless child hopes for love, thin and thin, But gets hunted alive by their own blood, their own kin.