Genetic Lottery - A Poem By Arshi Dokadia

Every curve of her body,

Every edge, every plain,

Carved carefully in his memory,

Haunting his dreams,

Stroking her ego,

Harboring her insecurity.

Apprecieative glances,

Scans her body as she passes,

Every able bodied male,

Would stop and stare.

Every nook, every curve, every edge,

Engraved in her memory,

With every appreciative glance,

She feeds off her misery.

Her hair past her waist,

Shiny locks, teasing her hips,

Light skin, fair eyes.

She knows she’d be a beauty to behold,

A Goddess among women,

An object of subjective envy.

Yet, she is lost,

Trying to find if,

She is worth it all,

And where she stands…

Is it because of her ability,

Or because she won the genetic lottery.