Words Of The Unborn

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With tender strokes, he caressed the blank sheet
leaving impressions that, made me cringe
though filling the voids with each meet
they were words that pierced like a syringe

The Earth growls, with the wrath of a thou’ beasts
for tender plants, trod upon by water cans
Little babies, brought to tears by nursing breasts
bring vengeful tears, that flood the sands

Why, young mother? Why murder; young lady?
True, shamming prince was frantic to flee the wild
but the grief that succeeds the death of a baby
compares poorly to that, for the unborn child

Do you hear that voice, there in the gutter?
Listen – “mother, murder” the words the unborn utters.

Written by: Vique Ogbonnaya Ukegbu
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

Author: admin

I am a member of the WRR editorial team.

  • It is a heard rending poem. I am stunned.

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