Fifty-fifty

You do appreciate my rose-like beauty,
But please don’t consider me weak.
I might be a flower –
Yet undoubtedly capable to be its thorns,
Sharp enough to make you bleed.

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I love it how you adjudged me as water –
Formless, molding myself according to you;
But this thirst-quenching blessing is also waves of tsunami
That washes away your world
In, maybe a single hit.

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You seem to be strong, but are you really ?
Or are you just bound,
In the norms of this world ?
Are you trying to hide your ‘strength’ –
By imposing your ‘power’ in abundant amounts ?

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You are considered an intellectual,
Everything you say is the final word.
But are you happy with this burden you take ?
Or do you want to escape,
To simply an uncritical and safe space.

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If we were structured with errors,
And are already aware -

What prevents you from a redress ?
What makes you shut your eyes to my pain.
When I am supposed to support you through yours ?
If we are meant to survive together,

Wounding me won’t do you any better.
Let’s share our rights rightfully,
And strive for the ones we cherish.