Like an extra button in the shirt never to use

she felt being a burden in family as an abuse

smeared by mum shouting and rattling pots

and daddy’s sweat dripping drop by drop.

Against grey colours of her day by day picture

she was waiting for the betterment (in any kind of any rapture).

Waiting is like a slowly pouring sticky caramel cream

to decorate the dessert … to wait is a self esteem!