Child's Cry Poem by Barnabas Markus Atsen

</>Innocent child!
Tomorrow's leader.
What wrong have I done
To die as a crushed tree leaf?

My blood has been shed,
My bones were ground,
My flesh was torn,
Pieces by that lady.

On that bed of fornication,
An innocent child
I was conceived.
Was it my fault nor idea?

After the pleasure
At their leisure;
With useless defense
He denied little me.

After that night, behind the light;
She went abusing drugs,
Siping out of me
The breathe of life.

And you, wicked doctor!
Your hands in the womb,
Crushing with metal,
I, the innocent child...

But I shall cry no more!
Weep no more my young heart!
On that day for aborting innocent me,
Against them shall my blood speak.
Aborting innocent me.