Flying sans fiscals
i gaze the sky over throughout the nights, asking why is the sky not that bright, for girls like me: parents trumble to disobey the God's advice, of giving a girl a cheered life? isn't this life made for me to rise, am I solitude striken, or in plight? even I can slare the wings to glide, in the sky, turning it always that bright.. matters' how, if is it a girl or boy child, what is standing to look for is pride? they, say girls like me have not to slide, their expections as the boys abide.. but I have even a heart to dream.. mind to love.. for am i a child.. my heart and mind work together free.. so nothing is to hide.. but am I tortured by men, or women who grew like me.. in this ride, where i get a chance to live few more nights, until i ablolish from the scene as it seems, or from people's fright.. but am i a child.. i wish to try