Blind
The eyes on ruthless roads in careless cars
Gleaming gluttony and grief, are blind.
The hungry hands tapping
Over their greedy glasses,
Remain unaware, and unseen.
For the eyes are blind, they cannot see,
Love, laughter or epiphany
Since they lay unseeing,
They will never realise
As their own senses
Lead to their demise.
The Virgin
If hearts had hymens
Hers would be
Ruptured everyday
By prepossessing passerbys
On streets she could never approach
An abiding corporeal celibate
With a swinging soul
Or just another girl
Afraid of labels.
Anuja Rai a 15-year-old and a resident of Delhi is an aspiring story-teller. She chooses to mould her stories into short poems.