Are the warriors in the shining armor..
The ferocious dreamer.
The one with a hidden flashy sword..
The one slaying the monster’s roar.
Bruised but smiling..
The shoulder for all the whining.
Instantly switching through roles..
Echoing in everyone’s laughter.
The distracted glitter..
The disruptive pillar..
Never to stir attracted by color.
The slow walker..
The absolute stalker..
And a great talker.
Failed playing coward.
Behind every door..
Shut out by shouting loud..
Facing crowd or bowing to applaud.
The straight forward March..
Without bothering about scratches.
The gulped in fear..
Ready to blow out fire turning emotions into ashes.
A body that creates..
Disfigures and then fits right in..
Wiping drools all over her chin.
Hands always ready to pull one up..
Faces that gets away with tears without smudging make-up.
Most of the times we might seem alone..
But each of us are the exact clone.
And cannot be easily blown.
By any gush of wind..
Because We are all tightly hinged.
Go Woman !