Who am I?
Cropped hair and a spritely frame,
With no idea as such about mind games,
She is easy with her smiles and laugh,
She jokes as if the going never got tough.
And man she is happy,
And with a happiness which resonates,
She is one lucky creature who seems impenetrable to all earthly pains.
Who is she?
Some say I am she……
But then who’s that girl?????
The one who sits silently in one corner,
Eyes lost within the realms of nature as a praiser or a mourner.
The world rushes past her,
She seems to have stepped aside.
The world has its own rules, she has set her own by which she abides.
Some call her a ‘retard’, to others she is ‘our budding poetess’,
She bothers about none;