By Adrian David
Curled inside the womb’s darkness, a life took form,
not knowing anything about the impending storm.
Listening to her mother’s heartbeat, her days passed by,
waiting for the day everyone hears her very first cry.
“It’s a girl!” the doctor doing the ultrasound said.
In utter shame, the parents-to-be hung their heads.
Raising a son was what they wanted, not a daughter.
Their regressive thinking made the child a lamb for slaughter.
In a world where it’s considered a blessing to give birth,
they both miserably failed to understand the girl child’s worth.
With a heavy heart, the mother agreed to commit the deed.
The soul inside her died a silent death, as she started to bleed.
The baby dreamt to see the beautiful world outside the womb.
She never knew her first home would become her final tomb.
Being a girl was the only ‘mistake’ she had ever made.
Alas, her lifeless, stillborn body lies in the bin, decayed.
If only the precious life hadn’t been nipped in the foetus,
the future would have seen her gracefully bloom like a lotus.
Oh, little one, along with you, humanity has also died.
The world out there is way darker than the one inside.
(Dedicated to all the nameless daughters who never saw the light of day)
Adrian David writes ads by day, and poetry and short fiction by night. Inspired by literary virtuosos like Wilde, Hemingway, and Twain, he transcended in the world of writing and hasn’t put the pen down ever since. His works deal with themes such as existential crises, humanism, social injustice — from the mundane to the sublime.
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