This was an assignment for school. We were studying widows in India and it was a very moving subject.

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Lost, she scrambles to recover her scattered pain

For the pain is all she has left.

And thrown across this forsaken ground

Are the shattered remains of hope.

She is condemned, an outcast forever a missing piece of a life never lived;

For they say she caused this tragedy, this tragedy that is her existence.

If he is dead, then she dies with him—

Whether physically or mentally.

And now, forced into poverty,

Her white tears line the angry path to death

At the end of her tunnel there is no light

She is nowhere and nothing

But it must be asked:

If she is soulless

Why does she weep?