Everyday when she bathed,
she scrubbed her body
hard as possible,
to remove all the mud that they threw at her,
all the black paint that they threw on her face,
but no matter how much she scrubbed and washed herself up,
it didn't come off,
for the mud and the black paint had now reached up,
deep in her soul,
deep in her body.
YOU ARE READING
The Revival [Poetry] [Completed]
PoetryACCOMPLISHMENTS -> Winner of 'The Fiction Awards 2020' for the category 'Best Emerging Talent'. PUBLISHED ON -> 2 March 2019 BOOK STATUS -> Completed ¶¶Away, beyond all the concepts of wrong doing and right doing, there's a sacred field only meant f...
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