SKY IS HER LIMIT
Born as a dainty dame
Aspiring for the highest fame.
Initially thought as a shame
And took the entire blame.
But no scorns made her lame.
As an elegant woman she became.
Inside four corners, she knelt.
As a locked bird she felt.
Longed to sing and dance,
Waited for that one chance.
No tortures made her frown
Nor pushed her aims down.
She fought to break up the chain,
Move all the obstacles lain.
At times fell but didn’t retreat.
The efforts she did repeat.
The eternal glory was her aim.
In the skies, she hoped to write her name.
She worked harder with pain.
The elixir of life she desired to attain.
She let her thoughts and voice blow,
Made her heart stronger and glow.
She once was a dainty little dame.
Now the sky, she is ready to claim.
marym
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