I don't want to give this a title

 Author's note:-

Hi! So...I don't usually write notes for my poetry, and I'm really sorry to have kept you waiting for my second Chronicle. I've gotten stuck somewhere, so until then...ponder over this piece of work. This is inspired by the Kolkota Incident that took place this year. So...yeah. 

This isn't created to offend or hurt any person or gender in any way, so I apologise if you feel that way. Anyways,

Here it is:

I don't want to give this a title

Ran through the halls,

Blood on her hands.

Was this what it felt like?

Being captured by a man?

A scar along her cheek, not once more would she dare to peek.

Her clothes torn apart, a shield for her life.

She'd escaped his clutches,

She took the knife.

Dragged through an alley,

Broken and bruised,

Killed for self defense, she hoped the court knew.

Independence day it was, but not for those of the country;

Who wander on their way home, 

Thinking only about, "Will someone kill me?"

She'd saved herself yet the truth remained,

We aren't independent to this day.

The era when a women walks home safely,

is the day we'll call this place- a safe country.

-Prisha Kapadia