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Late on the eve of her first breath
A curse from birth, renewed each day that pass
Her arms outstretched like the statue of Madonna
In the grotto of St. Luke
Born without a silver spoon,
Pruned in brutal scenes and taste
Accompanied by the facet of her wished burial
She’s a clown only for the king’s court, dirt
Not worthy to stick to a mighty skirt
Her tears, her companion
Unmistakably chosen
Nothing exists to lose
She never had any cuddling
Cos she’s always struggling
Suffering the calamity of shame
For ten plus four years in pain
Her only voice is wheezing
Gasping to kiss the air a free
To sleep and never wake
Written by: Matthew Gokum
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
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