This bird’s feathers of light, Flashy red, blue and white. All who admire, Snap, leer, desire. None know the price of her feather. Nor what she endeavours. Heartless eyes that only prey, Seek comfort with this bird that day. One, two and more. Come next morn. Pill in hand, for the unborn. Before the mirror, cutting feathers in shame. Black tears drip down, from this hopeless dame. Poem By Sanjeev 'Cimeries' Retnasingam
Art of Cimeries 