The woe of a beauty

A beautiful curved body
she flaunts in grace and style.
They look at her in stark amazement
admiring her all the while.

Her big round eyes,
fix their stare on me,
among all the people in the crowd.

No pride, no airs but
a different emotion they reflect.
They seem lost
as if vague and far-fetched,
pleading to me for something.

Then I see
what they are asking.
Behind those bars
trapped is she,
helpless on her own.

Besides all the praises,
she sings to me her woes.
Helpless I am as much as her,
for I can't help that doe.