An old woman lived alone
She had no one to call her own
Sometimes people were cold to her
And sometimes they were really mean.
They assumed horrid things about her
They assumed them too very often
For she never told them who she was
Or from where has she come to live there.
Hearing their taunts, fear and hatred
She became brittle as a thorn
All people could see on her face was
Anger, hatred or a big frown.
Soon that suspicion, mockery and hatred
Harvested its crop, she too started to hate
She made her hut her fortress and lived there
Hating, cursing the whole human race.
One morning when she opened her door
She saw a tiny child lying there
Hardly four or five years old
A pretty girl in tattered rags.
The mother inside her woke up
She asked her from where she was
And heard that she was an orphan
Who has lost her way in the dark.
Her life transformed with her touch
She started to live again
Soon her tiny hut was ringing
With the laughter of the little girl.
The neighbours started to ask her questions
She answered none, and raised suspicions
They branded her a thief, a kidnapper
And decided to punish her in front of all.
They chained the old woman, dragged her to court
The king was sitting on the throne
The little girl game with her, with eyes full of tear
The king was moved to see the duo.
On his gentle, kind query, every thing came out,
He ordered his subjects to never bother them
Told them to never hurt those they don’t love.
For only love gives us right to punish.
And as they have left the old woman to die alone
While they lived a happy life a few yards away,
Now that God has given her a glimmer of hope
They don’t have any rights to snatch that away.
This is the beginning of third year of an existence I never imagined I will be living- being financially dependent on someone.
I am absolutely at my patience’s end and am hundred percent sincere about trying any genuine free lance job on writing, that is I write and you pay, I am not keen to hit jackpot, fair payment will be fine enough for me.
I will like to clearly tell the robbers looking for fools to dupe to keep off – this one is too experienced to fall for your traps. I have tried for years to get a genuine, fair paying home-based job; the last time I was duped was in 2008 by a phony medical transcription institute, it gobbled up 30000 rupee and almost an years hard work, left me really sick in guts. Well, I am ready to take chances again but no longer being fooled. So, if any literary agent thinks that my works are worth it, I won’t mind sharing profits with him/ her; the percentage or fees for services will be negotiable. But please, don’t ask me to get a membership first, speak in trustworthy language. Or, any genuine publisher, publishing agency can gladly contact me, I will consider paying the fees if I think the offer isgenuine and reasonable.
You can check out my blogs to assess my writing and contact me.
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Along with my blog addresses I will love to add my writings which the MSN Reader’s archive has accepted and made me feel absolutely divine. They made me a writer, talented or not and gave me the best way of utilizing my spare time.
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