An attempt at an ode to all lives lost to infanticide
It’s not the dowry
It’s not even honour
It’s certainly not my face
From a world too callous
To view you as a life
For you are a commodity
Impotent part of a live trade
A lost transaction
Even before the deal is made
From a world too bitter
To value you as a being
For your emotions don’t count
Rules far too many to obey
A stifling existence
Decay to stillness everyday
…
It’s not a mother justifying her guilt
It’s a mother making amends
between her and her child
It’s a mother telling her child
about the love she has for her
It’s a mother who is unable to
but has to let go of her princess
It’s a mother who has no voice
against what her society declares
It’s a mother who has no daring
of winning her baby a chance at life
It’s a mother who begs forgiveness
before she hands over the doc a cheque


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