Widow Poem by Md. Asadullah

A widow in her fifties she was.
Lived in petty hut made out of straws.
Had no relatives dwelt all alone.
Only neighbours were her own.

Loved much her neighbour's child.
Cute little girl, dulcet and mild.
Twas little girl's birthday that day.
Widow was very glad and gay.

Birthday party was held that night.
She waited if someone would invite.
One by one invitees were coming.
With guests house was humming.

Lonely Widow waited in togs bright.
Gazed at house adorned with lights.
Poor woman! her wait had no end.
looking at house hours she spend.

When guests started coming out;
Wait was over and there was no doubt.
She stood and took a breath deep;
And walked towards her bed to sleep.