Poets & Poetry


She is stardust, isn’t she?
The way she fights, not with the world outside
But with all the turmoil going on inside her.
The turmoil that cripples her mind out of anxiety
That ruin her hard work
And crush her self-confidence.
But she never let her dreams fade
She holds onto them.
Holding every day the shattered efforts wasn’t easy
But letting go is never an option
‘Cause she knew she is made up of stardust.
Every atom of her body
Built her as a wounded warrior.
Wounded an umpteenth time
But the warrior that she is
She has decided to keep on fighting.
And that’s why I say,
She is made of stardust, isn’t she?