The Bracelet

She had a way with words, and he hardly ever spoke,

She was careless and free, and he fixed all she broke,

She ranted on for ages, and he was content to just listen,

She tried to let it go unseen, but he saw the tear glisten,

She didn't want to tell anyone, and he never tried to ask,

She didn't show it much, her feelings were always masked,

She wouldn't communicate, though to him she often talked,

She thought he didn't notice, and his intelligence she mocked,

The year was a year of trial for him, and he repeatedly failed,

The attempts he cautiously advanced, she repeatedly assailed,

The fears and worries he had about her, were getting bolstered,

The rebukes that he got from her, his dread they slowly fostered,

The repelling and rude ways and anger, didn't get him to surrender,

The first day she left early, he peeked into her office and calender,

The year gone past he couldn't see, it was wiped neat and clean,

The past and present he read, and got shocked at all that had been.

That day she fell ill, leaving early, and he left early too,

That taxi of her's he followed, as through the traffic it flew,

That evening she was looking pretty, he noticed and forgot not,

That she had worn a certain bracelet, which he had once bought,

That evening was the one she chose, the time to end it all,

That car-ride was the first time, that she didn't pick his call,

That bracelet given by him, it hid a very deep wound,

That was her own doing, by her past she was bound.

He found her alone, crying as she crumpled on the roadside,

He still didn't ask her what happened, but she decided to confide,

He never had imagined all of it, but he bore it with indulgence,

He listened to her words of sorrow, poison and vengeance,

He was moved to tears, when he heard what she'd planned,

He consoled her all he could, her trust at last he gained,

He saw the last of tears, and brought back the first smile,

He was permitted in her heart, she never was again hostile.

When love is universal, why's it said it's only for the pretty?

When someone is scarred or impaired, why do they get only pity?

When she was pretty but was abused, why not treat her with dignity?

When he isn't a verbose guy, why does that speak his ineligibility?

When an attachment breaks, why does that reduce his or her geniality?

When he prefers a guy not a girl, why does that imply impurity?

When we all hate stereotypes, why do so many of us fall prey?

When we all are born to live, why do so few of us stay?