When I go to the market, to bring something, <br />My soul listens to a calling ring. <br />Often I stop at a shop of snacks or sweets, <br />And purchase some thing to listen to the tweets, <br />Of a beautiful bird who is free to sky, <br />But she does not fly, I don't know why? <br />And prefers the cage, as her lovely home, <br />With all her outrage, reading verses of a tome, <br />Not talking with me, watching TV all alone, <br />Either lying on the bed or busy on the phone, <br />She was never like this, but now she is sick, <br />Her BP often high, she is burning like a wick, <br />A patient of thyroids, her son is away, <br />Misbehaved by wife of her son every day, <br />Although I cook food for me and my wife, <br />Helpless she cries, after every-day-strife, <br />Not happy with me, being her spouse, <br />I couldn't give her a peaceful house, <br />And this house belongs to my son not me, <br />We cannot escape although we are free. <br />I worked honestly and worked too hard, <br />I haven't got yet my God's reward. <br /> <br />Leave it anyway, I purchase something, <br />For the bird many things I cannot bring, <br />When I give it to her, she smiles with her writ, <br />I was thinking of it but didn't tell it.<br /><br />Akhtar Jawad<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/smile-of-a-defeated-woman/
