Freedom
Birds seems freer to a girl, she dwells in palace of imagination
She can't make it felt, can't tell the things in her questions
This is the freedom of the world; there is end of happiness in her eyes
When she tries to speak terror strikes, like her tongue is struck with thorns
She wants to write her own story, but pen is in someone else hands dusty
She sees little from her windows, rest of the world lies in her books
She sees the wrinkled face in mirror, fading with age is her fear
She can roam freely, but till her backyard near
She sees birds under the sky; she thinks to be like bird so high
But she knows it's a curse, to being a girl of unloved world
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