I was your daughter, just twenty and gay,
Fleeing up in the sky,
Soaring in heights,
Making you proud and say,
“You did it, my girl!”
But alas! I was just your daughter,
Merely a burden and a roast of responsibility,
Burning down your rolls of money,
To useless education that would just find its way in the kitchen.
Oh! How I wish you could see behind the societal bars,
That made me a useless cigar,
To throw away and dump anywhere,
And never to see me again elsewhere.
But, papa I was much more,
Than to just tied to that door,
Where I was stuck in strings of responsibilities,
Burdened with strange relationships,
Unaware to me.
Now I am bound to these ties of unwanted marriage,
Forced in the life of carriage,
To load and unload my miseries in me,
My capabilities burned in front of me.
But I vow to thee, you shall never see me free,
Of those tangled grudges that I hold against you,
Which neither in life nor in heaven you shall see,
Because I am gone,
Relieving you of your trouble,
Of being your daughter.
Now I am a daughter-in-law,
To dream and draw,
Just according to law.
I pray that you could see me more than a burden,
More than a responsibility, and none
Less than your son.
I was your daughter, your own little angel,
But alas! I proved nothing more than a baleful beetle,
Occupying and eating up your house of sons,
And thus, ornaments like me were just meant to auction.
Never mind, I’ll not see you anytime soon,
To bring up that gallon of shame on your teaspoon,
You shall never taste that stir of your responsibility and my dreams,
In this life of gifted streams,
Of cries and voices unheard and uncared for,
To fight and live in a constant war.
Yet I live and adore,
This life of tore,
But only in the name of – no more “your” daughter.
~ unheard voice of a daughter.
BY - Lubna Sana.