We Are Made Of What We Choose

By Nishtha Mishra

We are made of what we choose,

Threads of hope cut so loose.

Fate is torn apart and through,

Weathering desire abiding by rules.

Life is fatal, life is muse,

Lively and lethal, mental abuse.

Ribbons of love unbinding our dos,

Fragmented hearts cannot hit redo.

Kindly souls seen getting abused,

Love is fatal, fragmented and loose.

Glimmering eyes turning to blue,

Innocent and silent faces confused.

Men are acting like indigenous fools,

The loyalty and kindness bitterly refused.

Women are acting highly of themselves,

Only like a body that’s dressed with jewels.

We are made of what we choose,

Kindness is the key though we are fools.

We are made of what we choose,

Life is hell for the things we do.

By Nishtha Mishra