Utopia

Young Sheela Comes from a household Where her father left To be with another woman Leaving Sheela and her mother To face the neighbours Who call them names That have no English translation. So Sheela Goes looking for love In a society that shuns it In the name of Immorality. But Sheela Hears the promise of being loved From a boy who is loved As a fruit of Patriarchy. And the boy instead Is looking for sex In a girl so naive She knows not what it means. So Sheela Does what she must For this boy to stay But tells no one at all For the sake of Morality.

I wanted to be a candle Bright with a flame Lighting up the face Of the movement. I wanted to be a candle Ablaze inbetween fingers Of a fiery envoy Of justice. I wanted to be a candle Alight all its life The harbinger of light In dark times. I wanted to be a candle I had felt the fire inside But when I looked into a mirror I saw a Matchbox instead. My small colourful self Carries not one but several flames Matchsticks for each occasion For every injustice in the way. My fire is contagious It is the spark before the flame I am meant to light the candles I was born to inspire the change.