By Adyasha Pradhan
She may lovable or negligible,
but she smiles randomly;
Who knows how she carry her inside.
She look at being, but sounded anything;
Who knows what silence words there inside.
She laughs, she shares but she screems badly;
Who knows how she is broken inside.
She Wants to fly but she never think up,
She acts up but ones she will fly;
Who knows what is she adapting inside.
By Adyasha Pradhan