by. Christina Tom (Grade 11-D Our Own English High School, Dubai)

I run my fingers gingerly,

Over the pale, limp body,

Of my child, my darling newly born,

Her lips are purpled, mouth wide open with silent screams,

Her fragile eyes, delicate nose, all filled with mud 

My first born, my heart and my soul,

 She lies still in my arms,

I clutch her tightly against my chest,

And rock her back and forth,

rivers of tears flowing silently down my face 

I sing the lullaby that I had composed,

For my angel when I had come to know,

That there was a second heart beating inside me.

But now that heart, has been forcefully stopped,

My sweetest child! Buried alive, for being a girl 

I hear footsteps coming toward me,

Toward the corner where I sit devastated,

With my darling, her body desolate of her soul,

I look up to find, the demonic father of my child,

Glaring down at me, reproachful disgust colouring his eyes

Fear rises up in me, I stand up to flee,

I shouldn’t let him near my child again,

A blinding blow hits my face, a ringing in my ears,I stagger back 

I cry out; My face! It’s on fire!

“Choke on acid for giving birth to a girl!” he hisses.  

My newborn baby and I, neither of us did survive ,

Cursed be this land, where victims are dead and discrimination alive!