Embraced the obstacles from the start,
Have I a say in being pulled apart?
While the lesser folks await the wilting
I must prepare for the ornamental suffering.
The occasional care brightens my day,
Little memories to uplift dismay.
They stare at me with such a tender glance
And with much the same bring an end, perchance.
Even in praise, I quake with fear.
Bless the Lord, don’t make me so dear.
Before a blink, one with the soil
How long have I lived for so much toil?
Value your existence, you do.
Extend some thought to me too?
– Meera
The Life Stories 