Poem is just about anything. I saw one lady crying in WIRE office, I don't know the reason. I could not find out. But still, I find the idea fascinating that she after all came to the right place, where she will be listened to. Sometimes, women need a space to cry, just to cry and cry.

Life is a pain

at times

things go wrong

Problems pile up

one after another

One disaster complements another

I cannot bear it anymore

I cannot hide it anymore

I cannot ignore it anymore

I need someone to talk to

But I was alone

No one to ask

No one to talk to

I wish I had

just someone to hold on

Someone just to listen to me

While I cry

Someone to hand over the

tissue

and say' I know'

'I understand'

'I know what you feel'

But where is this person

Who would listen to me

even without knowing me

Without judging

Without prejudice

Then walking over

to get coffee

in lonsdale street

Busy street of melbourne

I just entered into WIRE

Someone asked me there

'How are you'

That caring voice

opened the flood within me

I cried

I cried

and I cried even more

I had reached the right place

to be listened

not to be helped

to enable me to 'help myself'