People staring at me-
As my body is bare;
My baby crying-
As stomach is frying;
Rain is pouring-
And my life is drowning;
My tears are rolling-
While my hands are working;
For making my baby's grave.
I am running-
And my wife is begging;
for baby's funeral.
Then with no shame-
I lost my name;
I had no other choice;
But heard only inner voice;
Mom and Dad:
Bury me deep:
I don't know how to react;
But it's a terrible fact!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sensitive and painful, , , , , hope its not true and doesnt happen to anyone ever....u are a good poetess with lot of heart