A man, old and frail,
Sitting in this room so dark,
Closes his eyes to plunge into the past,
His past, which isn’t so vast.
She lives in the second bungalow around the next right.
Or, maybe, She just resides there.
Because, at the next right;
Living isn’t a piece of cake.
Because, in the society right around the next right,
She is known as the “victim” of rape.