Where is the poem?



It is not poetry if the reader doesn’t cringe
Where is the blood, spit and phlegm ?

I washed them all out before
hanging the poem out to dry

In this land girls are taught to hide
when they bleed
lads to flaunt their sticks and stones
and you want me to write more of it
when the newspaper is almost free?

See how the poem evades you
It has learnt our ways
©Reena Prasad

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