I met a gentle maid named Democracy.

Author:Chawla, Nishi
Position::Poem
 
FREE EXCERPT

She tapped three times at my door, Each time she tapped, I shouted-- "Who is there?" Each time she paused, But dare not reply. I saw her through my side window; I did not open my door, I would rather let her go. I recoiled with some horror, when I saw her again per chance, smiling wanly at me as I slid the potatoes into a bag at the grocery store. She wore a colorful blue skirt And a red blouse aglow With fifty stars in a corner. She extended her hand in greeting; My heart froze for a minute, And then I smiled rather nervously, Though I forgot to shake her hand, Or rather, chose not to. "My name is Democracy." I tried to ignore her and moved on. "I free the hearts of everyone-- You may need me sometime." I turned around and stared at her. "Excuse me?" I shot back at her. "I work for those in power," She spoke quietly after me. "And so?" I spoke rather defiantly. "I live by the good graces of rich folks," She...

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