Suttee (Widow)

In the clothes of plain white,
she strides down the lane.
The villagers just might,
just might admit that she is sane.

At a young age she married the man,
a man about forty.
And by the time she became a woman,
he was old to the point that his vision became blurry.

But why should anyone care about what this girl was put through,
by the time she was 18,
he died,
leaving her nothing to do.
And his family members,
little did they understand her plight.
They forced her into the embers,
and on top of his funeral fire they had to fight.

A suttee she had become,
and Indian widow forced to sacrifice.
she was lucky unlike some,
she didn\'t give up her life.
She fought and she won,
but now her life had frozen,
and it had become like hard ice.

Suttee was illegal,
and it still is.
But who will awaken the minds of those,
who see nothing but this?
Who are so blinded by old customs,
some customs which hardly make sense.
She was saved and ran away,
But what will happen to those who die on this expense?

Now as she walks she is shunned upon,
as if it was her fault she became a widow.
Customs and rules have tied her down,
And now she is merely a shadow.
A living dead,
who walks in white,
and at night she sleeps in bed,
Knowing that what she did was right...
But was it really worth the fight?

Noone shall accept her,
because how would they know?
How it feels to be live a life,
and get it snatched away so slow.
And all in front of your eyes,
they throw you in the flames.
And all in front of your eyes,
you see their proud claims.
How what she did was right,
how it was an act of pride.
And those voices ring in her head at night,
as she goes to sleep,
with a gentle weep.

A widow she is,
a widow she shall be,
there\'s nothing wrong with that...
But that nobody sees.

**Suttee is something that really happens once in a while in India. Not all Indians follow this, just the really **REALLY* religious ones who are usually uneducated and being an Indian myself I know this...so don\'t get offended" To perform a suttee is when your husband dies and you jump into his funeral pyre along with him by the way**