Her decision on getting married to man who doesn't support her dreams is like spilled milk Wiping that with her six yards of grief Which she uses to hide everything within her //FULL PIECE IN CAPTION// //Voices of silence// Her voices of silence are mourned in cooker whistles Her dreams and passion are reversed like spilled milk She looks into the boiling milk with wide open eyes Whereas she want to look laptop as software engineer Dejected inside the four walls on the kitchen