The silence of the web,

The cobbled network of wires,

The connections, the talks, the chats

And then the other folder,

The scathing troll attack,

The fierce virtual battle,

The story that made some say,

“Oh my! See that girl, her mother doesn’t look after her”

A girl with a glass of champagne becomes another headline

In the neighborhood news

In the family circle

In the moral police

A guy posting poetry,

Becomes a joke,

Because guys don’t do this

Guys don’t do that

Girls can’t do this

Girls can’t do that

You can’t write this

You can’t write that

The free internet pack becomes a waste

What becomes a luxury,

Is what others can enjoy but you shouldn’t,

Because you aren’t a part of that crowd,

Judgemental are we,

Because we like being so

But we can’t judge others

For it’s a luxury

That some can afford

Even though it’s affordable for all

So where do I get freedom?

The place where I am known

The Place where I am called a member of the family, a close friend and most importantly being appreciated for what I am.