A Premature Baby Poem by Sankhajit Bhattacharjee

I

Everybody had a doubt
as you were a premature baby.
Your nonacceptance started my struggle,
grief made my heart heavy.

Within a week after scissor
I started to do hard work.
Life seemed to be so tough-
morning light seemed to be dark.

II

Slowly the baby turned into a child-
his face resembled to his father.
The ever dynamic society took him on her lap-
sunshine followed the cloudy weather.

A boy of reason emerged out from the child-
his mother's grief was like a black scar on the shinning moon.
He opened his mouth against those,
who made him hot like the afternoon.