Bottomless Hunger for Love

By Monica Potsangbam

 Bless my heart for saying this to you!

I am Jane and I am plain

I am nine and I am fine

Walking between the two worlds;

Of depression and expression

To my tanned face from their fair faces,

One, two, three, four, five of them come,

Spit on my face.

The impression of standing fairer than I;

Fairer it is to all to look at my tanned skin.

Calls sweet Jane ugly and bubbly,

To call it so, can it be fair and care?

Is it that a fair is to wear high-hat to the tanned brown?

Oh! Short it is to live.

Yet, I take every blow to live.

Fair! Fair! Fair!

Can’t it be fair hearted as to be fair skinned?

To play nice is to burn peace.

Oh! That peace in an act plays fire.

Retires little brain of Jane from sanity

Would it be desperate to receive a hug?

Am I drowning in depression to ask for a hug?

By Monica Potsangbam