Men with scars
Etch their own marks
Onto the souls
And bodies
Of the women they meet.
Like a blade
Knows its own way
When it meets the skin,
Men with scars
Know the path
To trace onto new flesh.

Men with scars,
End up themselves as scars,
Onto a bleeding derm.
They hurt you,
And then stay
Forever onto your skin
Reminding of the pain…
The sweet ache
That a scratch brings.
The uneven skin folds
That a scar tissue forms
Forever changes
The terrain of your skin
And soul.
Twisted and distorted;
With its own beauty-
Like a beauty mark.
Or a signature of the pain.
That’s done its duty.

©Dr Hafsa Siddiqui (2017)


The Sacrifice

The Sacrifice

Separating her young legs,
His manliness found a way,
And she reciting the durood shareef,
Fought her senses
To get done with the incest.
Take me,
Not my sister.
The sacrifice.

© Dr Hafsa Siddiqui


Commentary: This poem that I wrote almost a year ago, was asked to be taken down due to its objectionable content. We adults need to wake up to  what exactly our kids are facing. If all things will be under the rug swept, then more distorted and unhealed stories will continue to be written. Speak now. Act now. Care now. It matters to a child.



I wonder if monsters
Ever have demons of their own.
Demons that plaque them…
Demons that creep
From under their bed.
Incubus or succubus
That call their name in sleep.
Medusa that turn to stone,
Their shocked bodies.
Or just ‘humans’
That beat the monsters
At their game.
Stalkers, serial killers, rapists,
Online predators …
Up to date.
So called ‘feminists’
That sling mud
Onto women that cannot hurt.
Cat- calling , Eve- teasing,
For tis’ the women are to blame.
Even monsters may have rules.
What to speak of mortals; fools.
Pedophiles lure the innocence,
To their darkest lairs.
Putting even demons to shame.


©Dr Hafsa Siddiqui (2018)

Fighting the Sixth Round with Nervous Breakdown

Fighting the Sixth Round with Nervous Breakdown

Remove the cob webs
Spread before her eyes.
Cycle’s on repeat.
Wash. Rinse. Spin. Repeat.
Dirty laundry;
Fresh and dry.
Stinking of fluid
From last night’s try.
Future holds
Yesteryear’s lullaby-
Pulsating with
Heartache and wrenching cries.
Will there ever be…
An anti-heartbreak?

Hafsa Siddiqui



“Knights ”


They burrow inside your soul
These creatures called “gentlemen”.
With sweet words to grasp your heart
Within their cold blooded hands.
Duelling with weapons
Of care and sensitivity,
Instead of a sword and shield
They pierce the armour-
Once the blood has been shed
The women folk; all without the guard,
The Knights with Shining armour
Gallop to the next lass.

Dr Hafsa Siddiqui