Poetry

Cow

She is white, the color of milk

Her skin is soft, just like silk.

She wanders here and there

Looking for grass everywhere.

But the grass is dry, water is scarce

Leaving her thirsty and scared.

While she walks even longer

Looking for food, crying with hunger.

A man rushes in, to offer her food

Her lips water, changing her mood.

She moves for it, to grab a bite

But whoosh of a hunter, hold her tight.

She remembers the sound

Its  her owner, shouting loud.

He milks her in the morning

And leaves her calf hungry.

Using her to make money

To revel in luxury and honey

She is left with seething anger

To see her calf dying with hunger.

Making her pale and even whiter

Her milk looks more like water.

She hates her body, her milk

Which is no more like silk.

Her milk was a boon but became a curse

Making matters even worse.

Soon, she will stop giving milk

Her dead calf be sold, she will sulk

She tries to forget the past like yesteryear

Hoping the things to turn better next year

She continues her mundane life

Till it is time to die.

She will then be freed of this man

Or may even be born as human.

She wants to be born as his son

To flounder his money,

To leave him begging for penny

To make him dead with hunger and disdain

Then he will remember her in vain

The poor cow who never complained.

But who knows what will happen in future

The truth is present, which is bitter.

She has to endure this for a while

Till  seasons change and she feels better

Then she will be white, the color of milk

Her skin will be soft, just like silk.

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