Unspoken And Unheard

By Manya Agarwal

Sally's neighborhood

Is as normal as can be.

Gossiping ladies,

And boys with a frisbee.

Dogs, cats and rats,

At every corner.

Running all day long,

Chasing each other.

Sally is the youngest,

With a sister and a brother.

She lives with them

And her father and mother.

She doesn't have many friends,

No one knows why.

If you ask the neighbors,

They say, "She's shy."

Well, that's true,

As she comes out seldom.

Only if it's important,

And not for something random.

If you want to meet her,

You'll have to peep over her fence.

She just sits there,

With an expression of tense.

Oh! I almost forgot

About the weird old lady.

'Cause apparently without her,

The neighborhood isn't as normal as can be.

The lady sits on her porch,

All day long.

With her huge bulky eyes,

She looks something wrong.

The kids are afraid of her,

They don't talk to her, the ladies.

The dogs, cats, and rats

Run like being chased by bees.

But she doesn't bother,

And sips her tea.

She doesn't say a word,

All she does is see.

Now let me come

To the main story plot.

Because obviously,

Interested in this you are not.

I know you've made out

By this time

The story is about Sally and the lady.

I'll add this line just to make it rhyme.

Sally was bored,

She wanted to go out.

But her mother wouldn't let her,

So she snuck out.

'That was odd', you may think

For a girl who is shy .

But I'll answer your questions

Just read the story to know why.

Sally's parents didn't let

Her come outside.

She wasn't shy at all

Still, she was made to hide.

So Sally snuck out,

And saw some girls.

Hopscotch-ing, laughing

And chatting about curls.

The girls asked her

If she wanted to play.

Sally shook her head

And looked away.

She started to roam,

Around the neighborhood.

It was really nice,

She never knew it was this good.

Until she came across,

The old hag's house.

Where she sat as usual,

Her eyes all arouse.

Now you'd think,

Sally ran away screaming.

But she stood there,

Looking at the old lady who was gleaming.

The lady beamed,

And invited her in.

She offered her tea

And biscuits from a tin.

Sally accepted the offer,

As she was delighted.

She'd never gone to another house.

She was never invited.

They made good friends,

And chatted for long.

Then Sally went back,

Humming a song.

The next day again,

She snuck out of the house.

The lady told her stories

Of her soldier spouse.

How he died in battle,

Five years ago.

The army came to her house,

To salute him and bow.

The old lady was lonely,

Sally concluded.

She was just like her,

Who also wanted to be included.

This sneaking in and out,

Continued for quite some days.

Sally's mom got suspicious

And she kept her gaze.

Then one fine day,

Mother caught her in the act.

But Sally wasn't punished,

As she stuck to the fact.

Sally told her mom,

Whatever had happened.

She was alone and bored,

And with this feeling, she maddened.

Her mother comprehended,

And saw the fault in her ways.

She permitted her to visit the lady,

But after some days.

On the fifth day, she went,

And found the porch empty.

The grass was dead,

And flowers were scanty.

Sally received a letter,

The very next day

It was from the old lady,

She had a last message to say.

"My dear girl,

I am going away.

To an old-age home,

Quite far away.

My son has come for me,

After all these years.

He's finally remembered,

He has a mother to bear.

I don't want to leave,

But it's destiny's call.

Instead of talking to you,

I'll talk to the wall.

I just hope for

Your parents to see.

Not being able to speak,

Isn't an enemy.

I know you came,

But it was too late.

For I had left,

When I'd met you last date.

Take my advice,

There's no reason to hide.

You could listen or speak,

But it isn't we who decide.

We have talked without speeches.

And listened without ears.

We were happy with smiles,

And sad with tears.

I want one last favor from you,

As a farewell present.

You won't stay quiet,

From day ascent or descent.

And as a return gift,

I promise to you.

To listen to walls

And people like you.

By Manya Agarwal