Oh God! Why Did You Create Me As A ‘girl'? Poem by Sphoorthi Padmini Rangarajan

Oh God! Why did you create me as a ‘GIRL'?
With gold chained bounds and curls,
My ‘Name' spreads displeasure,
And I am not a treasure,
I spread sorrow all around,
Like a bell sound.
I am treated as a decorative piece,
With brutal burns on self-increase,
I am adored as a doll,
With no feelings of self at all,
That, I am made to stoop and fall,
That, ‘I am a girl' so all call.
I am daughter, sister, wife and mother,
I play meaningful roles that world does not bother,
At festivals I am worshipped,
Just to bear some more cane whips,
Before, blossom into flower,
I am married off with restrictive power.
I am made to bear the fruit of love,
If, it turns out to be a ‘GIRL';
It is crushed to death under the merciless ‘HAND GLOVES',
This cycle of life going on and on,
The story of pain is ever born,
I am nowhere better than males,
Because, I am born ‘Female'.