Abortion - Not a Decent Burial

Babita Kejriwal posted under PenMuse-11 Poetry on 2019-09-20



My small naked self Was no more, Its existence sadly over. I was not allowed to develop, Or to shower all those around With smiles and love… But what do they know of love, The heartless and callous lot; How could they comprehend My sadness and plight? I was unable to carve a niche In their hard hearts- Hearts which were made of lead Where there was no feeling. They destroyed and discarded me And carried on smilingly as before, As if I had never been there, As if nothing had occurred; Pretending it was just the same. I had believed that a mother Was there only to shower Affection, but I see My mother devoid Of love and caring. Oh mother! How can I ever Forgive you after this ordeal Which pained me so. Maybe some time in life You will realize That I could have meant Something to you, that you Could have loved me. As an angel I flew to your Nest, expecting to be nestled And cuddled, to be Nurtured in the Warm womb for nine Months  and more; But sadly it was a dream Never to come true!

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