Naive
Innocent
Pure

Tortured
Beaten
Inured

Every day
New bruises
To endure

Bullied in school
Abused at home
In this plight, she was immured

With no one to confide in
no one to hide behind
she was her own saviour

Only one thing to do now
Commmit the ultimate sin
That was her only cure.

She found a rope
She found a stool
She found some liqueur

She gathered enough courage
To finally put her head through the rope
And end it all

Nobody missed her
Not even her own father
He was too drowned in alcohol

So she hung there for days
Until finally the rope gave out
And let her limp body fall

–Meghna Jain