In the crowd.

As each minute pulls her back,
She struggles more and takes one step forward.
As each second retaliates with pressure,
She shouts loud and pressurises even more.

Her story, an untold epic,
Is as if ready to be immortalized.
Her story, a charter unexplored,
Is now as if raw and exposed.

She uses her strength and understanding,
To disagree with what is told.
She portrays her denial in all manners,
And vows with ideas untold.

Her voice she realises is too small to be heard,
The crowd she realises- too big to notice.
So she decides to grow and grow some more,
Till she gets bigger than that crowd.

But then she realises that,
That crowd is not the only one.
The crowds more than one,
All bite into her flesh.

So she calms down a little
And gives her thoughts some rest.
She decides to start afresh,
This time in some other location.

The story same,
She grows restless there too.
Changes her stand,
Comes to a conclusion after thinking it through.

She’s alone and so the crowd instigates her,
The crowd is big and so she feels alone.
They are many, and she only one.
She starts looking  for a solution (and maybe she knows it too)

After nights of deliberation but no conclusion,
She concludes there is only one way.
She’ll close her eyes and go to sleep,
And wake up next morning, hoping it to be a BETTER DAY.

-Stuti

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