Adult

By Sibani Mohanty

Wearing her little skirt on,

Hopping into the car with a little yawn. 

From picking a book to colour, 

To building a little clay sculpture.

 When that little girl looked into the mirror, 

Growing up is what she preferred. 

Years later she grew into a lady, 

Always feeling so cagey. 

Tied in her own mess, 

Wondering if the burden could get any less. 

Brushing her hair, fixing her earing, 

The vision of her life was blearing. 

Dumping her thoughts in a paper, 

Too afraid to become a failure. 

Sitting down losing the track of time, 

Stuck with her misery and grime. 

Waking up every day for the same loop, 

She is her own little group. 

Where did all the dreams go? 

Why does she feel so low? 

No more colouring, no more sculpture, 

All day every day the same draining torture. 

Where did the little girl disappear? 

For she doesn't like this displeasure. 

The lady wishes to become a kid, 

Hoping this feeling might get rid. 

By Sibani Mohanty