Honour Killing Cliche Poem

September 18, 2018

She liked to text till late at night on the cellphone,

Everybody sleeping while she is peeping at the screen that glows,

Now she groans cause he has told her another of his awful jokes,

About her quirky folks and what follows on the qwerty board is a perking up of two souls,

In love the stuff is potent and they knew the omens,

Consisted of subtle flirting and less covert working,

Through all their friction cause all the hurting,

They both have been through,

Been to places where her eyes were always moist like morning dew,

Nah he did not say that to me, nah she did not mean that thing,

She only bought support bras cause nothing else seemed to be supporting her,

That's her life up to date and this tale plays on her phone which is out of date,

Isn't that how every story plays out nowadays?

 

 

She hated whenever he was late again,

From changing trains and meditating over a computer twelve hours at a stretch,

They met at the bench on the same park for the last three years,

Chatting in whispers cause you know, the trees have ears,

Today he makes his moves between the word play and the hand play,

She had wished that it would be sooner, something to ease one of those bad days,

Fear tinged lips meeting, she was quivering,

Some part of her even enjoyed the shivering,

Quickening heart beat when their lips meet,

Love is a potent medicine but a bit sweet at a young age,

She had lost the game twice before and she got played,

Each time she dipped her hands in scalding water just to feel pain,

Of course she relied on these things to feel sane,

Of course her phone buzzed when she stayed with him for too late,

Picked it up, notification pops up and she unlocks the

Phone "Message one: College was over two hours ago, beti why aren't you at home"

She says her goodbyes, promises to be up till late night,

Now her phone is smart so she can send him emojis to wish him good night,

Her phone is up to date and she does not need any more upgrades

Isn't that how every story really goes nowadays

 

Who knew her better than her father,

Or so he thought while the car did drive her,

With two bodies at the back, the city getting farther,

The bumpy aggravating her grumpy father harder,

A man of the people and the man of the house so,

Cricket bat in one hand and fidgeting with her digital,

Records, call to whom and text whom for, according to them all,

Yeah they were in love, she was running away,

Yes he did not approve of it

They say blood is thicker than water, I mean she was his own daughter,

But if you dare to love, you erase those borders and those labels and those tags,

Their bodies were dumped in a far away location with

His phone is up to date but his thoughts are out of date,

Isn't that how every story plays out nowadays?

 

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