By S. Vardhan
You are a dandelion in a war zone.
People, blind to the earth,
focus on you feeling like a flower.
You’re too sensitive.
You need to lighten up.
It was just a joke.
Why are you so angry.
Your emotions make you weak.
You need to change.
When one girl on a bus gets gang-raped, you picture that L-shaped rod being shoved inside you
then pulled out, dragging you, inside-out.
You sense that.
You are sensitive.
YOU ARE A DANDELION.
But you are a dandelion in a WAR ZONE.
A bomb drops nearby and you don’t die, but you feel it.
You’re Capable of feeling it.
Your dandelion roots dig deep into the ground and possess a strength that no one can see And only
you can feel.
From roots that grew through blood and mud
to roots that breathe through dirt.
In a dredged up, soiled dead zone,
You are the splash of colour.
You are beauty in darkness.
You are life.