BY SRUTHI KALAVACHERLA
broken and hurt
used
trapped in her nightmare.
long nights, dirty money
a wench to their desires
they say there is no varnish
to protect her
from the venom—
the venom of indifference
she is a yielding, silent mirror
lacking luster
and those who cracked her surface
refuse to pick up her scattered shards
I pass by an abandoned bridge,
warped, rusted.
its quiet strength undermined,
falling apart
the poison in the air
the poison of the people
gnarled its youthful spine
they say there is no varnish strong enough
to maintain the bridge.
the bridge is nothing more
than a ghost—
a ghost of its sprightly past.
the devouring waters
eat away at her innards
she remained calm and poised
and took the pain of the striking waves
to provide comfort and leisure for others.
the strong bridge I once knew is long gone.
toppling over with the toxicity
of indifference.
they say there is no varnish
but they have not looked.
and moved onto another
not once glancing back
at the bridge they shattered.
Sruthi Kalavacherla is sixteen years old. She attends Amador Valley High School in Pleasanton, California. She wrote this poem to represent women who are unappreciated.