Here I’m, standing behind the bars,
Prisoner no. 972, face filled with scars.
There’s a lot I want to say,
There’s a lot on the bay.
I’m a girl, a dalit I’m called,
I didn’t know this, until I was mauled.
Smile and giggles were out of site,
Not yet realised,
how toughs going to be the ride.
My parents wanted a baby boy,
And I don’t know why?
Are girls not capable enough to fly.
Why they always called me a disgrace?
Why my mom had problems to face?
Being a low caste was a curse,
But being a low cast GIRL,
Was much more worse.
I faced it all, inequality and prejudice,
Everyone treated me like a dead mice.
Home was full of chaos,school was hell,
Wherever I went,I was pushed in a well.
I m prisoner no. 972, yeah it’s all true!
Frustration Anger Loneliness
Irritation and sorrow fight,
All these feelings were my daily diet.
Then came the day,limits were crossed,
My mom was getting beaten up again,
Here and there tossed.
I felt horrible,the water was above nose.
I picked up the kitchen knife,
Heart was the place I chose.
All the forbidden voices came out loud,
With a fierce blow and splashing sound.
Dead he was lying on the floor,
Oh my God! Whom did I murder?
He was my father. Yes my father!
What have I done, it is wrong,
Was it all the rage that came out strong.
Is it justice? I am still lost.
Police came by and I was feeling nost.
Prisoner I m, number 972,
I m gonna ask questions,
‘Cause I don’t have any clue.
What if I was treated equal?
What if there was no prejudice?
What if, what if and what if!
It may continue till the dawn,
I was so cute when I was born.
Now I m looking at the sky,
Wondering in disguise, WHY ?
I m a prisoner number 972
Was my life meant to be blue.