Twenty four on Twenty Fourth

Hiding behind the kitchen wall,
A chubby girl eats chocolates;
She sings all day and plays with a Barbie doll,
Her restless legs now refuse to crawl.
Two shiny ponytails swing turn by turn
As her head revolts against boredom
And moves back and forth;
She says annoyingly,
“How long do I wait for March 24?”

The years,
Unable to keep track of untold stories,
Reflected on her face with utmost honesty.
That smile now beguiled some of the shiniest stars in the sky,
The teary eyes plagiarized twinkling happiness
And died every moment in the fire of a new lie.
Her restlessness has succumbed to contemplative rantings,
Yet she has her childish ways of loving herself.
A daring sweetheart with a heart of straw,
She says,
“I turn twenty four and I’m bold.
Even by mistake, don’t call me old.”

P.S.: I just turned Twenty four today and I thought of treating myself with something unique and hence, this poem.

21 Replies to “Twenty four on Twenty Fourth”

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