Weaver
She is not a joker in the business
the wholesale trade she runs prudently
weaving flouting lies into fine truth
and established truth into open deceit
Her feet always points towards salons
market places she does not miss a day
those are the places wealthy and teeming
with raw materials for weaving articles
Many families cry with their hands on mouth
children often ask, “Mama why divorce?”
shops have been looted and burned down
and brides fall apart with their bridegrooms
The weaver does not rest on her wooden bed
till the textile of lies are finished and sold
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