What she felt

She never did anything but mope,
And why not? For her, there was no more hope.
What she felt, was understandable, not;
What she wished, her life was nothing but a story's plot.

Born into a wealthy and kind family,
She should've lived her life happily.
What she felt, was lonely;
Without a sibling, she was the only

A sister she got, a year later,
But to her parents, she was still greater.
What she felt, was pressure;
But in her family's heart, she was their treasure.

Starting in Attock, they proceeded to Razmak,
From where they left to Peshawar, all in six years.
What she felt, was nothing;
For she still had to understand some things.

Hafsa and Izza,
As well as sisters, Mahnoor and Fatima.
What she felt, was happiness;
She had finally made some friends with success

An exam failure resulted in staying another year,
But they eventually carried on to Sailkot in mere.
What she felt, was curiosity;
Who would she befriend in this city?

Maha Ghani, they called her,
Maheen Javed, she was the other.
What she felt, was utter contentment;
But that changed when they moved to Mangla Cantt.

That was the last straw, she'd explode,
But thanks to Kainaat, she switched to safe mode.
What she felt, was thankful;
To have a sister like Kainaat, one very reliable.

Beaconhouse School System Jhelum Campus,
The name of their school, that was.
What she felt, was displeasure;
She refused to move another.

After moving their residence sess,
And switching schools to Mirpur Campus.
What she felt, was a mixture or a blend;
When Mahnoor Javed became her friend.

BSS Mirpur Campus moved to an edifice next year,
Because the last building had been too small here.
What she felt, was most definitely not pain;
For she thought, they wouldn't move again.

She proved to be wrong once again,
But there was no way she'd move to ENGLAND!
What she felt, was indescribable;
Now she was unable.

Her birthday was a week before her parting,
The school (even the head!) threw her a surprise birthday party.
What she felt, was teary;
She would miss everyone dearly.

Whitehaven, Cumbria, was where they stayed,
To help her, nothing could be done or made.
What she felt, was scared;
She'd never seen so many Christians, it was weird.

The quartet of Jericho Primary School, Whitehaven,
Got an extra, who wasn't Christian.
What she felt, was anger;
She refused to befriend these strangers.

Why should she? They weren't of her culture,
But two of them, had broken through to her.
What she felt, was merrier;
With them, she'd get through this faster.

Each gifted her, Leah a pink hat,
And Laura lent Jessie, her black stuffed cat.
What she felt, was indebted;
They were now her greatest European friends.

They had to depart to the Isle of Man, now there's a surprise (!)
Leah and Laura had proved that she was their prize.
What she felt, was hatred, by now;
Did they hate her? She wished them to avow.

On the bright side, she'd get her own room and school,
With her in high school and Kainaat still in primary school.
What she felt, was satisfactory;
But that didn't mean she forgot Jericho Primary.

Headstart at Balla wasn't that unpleasant,
Except when they got lost in the Maths department.
What she felt, was swell;
She and the school had started off well.

Alice, Kayleigh, and Ellen
Became her friends.
What she felt, was wonderful;
It was blissful.

She cracked as inside she ceases,
Her heart shattered into a million pieces.
What she felt, was jaded;
Once again, they had her spirit faded.

The last hour of school was an assembly,
Crying the whole way through, it went by pretty quickly.
What she felt, was heartbroken;
For she would never see them again.

She knew that was the truth,
It occurred repeatedly in her youth.
What she felt, was bored;
The whole moving thing, had become old.

They said "Manchester",
She hated the city then and there.
What she felt, was self-pity;
It had already ripped her apart, this city.

She blinked from the shocker,
She hadn't seen, in two years, people of her culture.
What she felt, was not forlorn;
She thought she'd once again, be alone.

She felt so sorry,
Seeing Urdu used so wrongly.
What she felt, was her ethics;
She wanted to fix this.

The language, if they could abuse it,
How could they be illiterate in it?
What she felt, was confusion;
The amount of sense she got from this was none.

In every way, she was feeling helpless,
Following Lorraine to her lessons.
What she felt, was her aching heart;
In Pakistan, where she fit in, if only they had stayed.

But it never really mattered what she felt,
After all, it was always about education and that.
What she felt, was questions;
Why did she have feelings? According to parents, they interfere in educations.

Her wish, from now, was to be a tree,
Just standing there, not here suffering this agony.
What she felt, was pain;
In August, she predicted, they would move again.

After learning about it, she hated her Chinese sign, the Ox,
It got more and more annoying, contained in this box.
What she felt, was frustration;
Why couldn't anyone else hold all this perfect child attention?

If she could, she would trade places with her sis,
Who had no pressure of being the perfectly smart and responsible miss.
What she felt, was something still left to explain;
But who cared? It'd been like that since the beginning.

By all, she was expected to be blind, deaf and thick,
She didn't want to take any of it.
What she felt, was suicide;
The only solution for her, with no-one by her side.

And why was that? It was easy as pie,
Because they moved, that's why!
What she felt, was a barrier;
That ought to be built so she wouldn't be lonely forever.

Even with Shafiqa, came stupid perfect child responsibilities,
But she was still thankful for a friend like Shamaela and her.
What she felt, was 'this is the end';
For as long as I live, I'm not going to make another friend.

Poetry was never her thing,
But it became so easy to pour out every feeling.
What she felt, was that she should begin herself secluding;
No-one had to know about this overly sensitive yet stone-hearted thing.

Her life continues even after all that she revealed,
What you've just heard, isn't even a fraction of what she really felt.
What she felt, was and always would be a mystery,
As she continued to struggle in her misery.

She never did anything but mope,
And why not? For her, there was no more hope.
What she felt, was understandable, not;
What she hated, was that her life would be everything but a story's plot.