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African Poetry: Letter From An Aborted Child by RabJ

Enjoy this African poetry.

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My mother’s womb is now my grave
The Doctors pill was the gun
Mama pulled the trigger when she swallowed the
pill
It pierced through my heart, it made me scream
I turned to my maker in pains
‘you tricked me’ I cried out
She was no haven you promised
You promised peace in her embrace but here I am
in pieces
How eager I was to meet her
To tell her how safe I felt within her
But I was named ‘mistake’ without naming ceremony
I had slept dreaming of her face
Eager to taste her milk and embrace
When I kicked I thought it would be our new play,
a mother and child game
I never meant to cause her pain
Never wanted her to take those pills
To meet that man, I hear they call him Doctor
Together they chased and flushed me
Where could I turn to? You were my home
Who could I cry to? you were my hope
I felt at home in your womb
But yesterday you placed a bomb
And today your womb becomes my tomb..

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