African Poetry: Letter From An Aborted Child by RabJ


Enjoy this African poetry.

My mother’s womb is now my grave
The Doctors pill was the gun
Mama pulled the trigger when she swallowed the
It pierced through my heart, it made me scream
I turned to my maker in pains
‘you tricked me’ I cried out
She was no haven you promised
You promised peace in her embrace but here I am
in pieces
How eager I was to meet her
To tell her how safe I felt within her
But I was named ‘mistake’ without naming ceremony
I had slept dreaming of her face
Eager to taste her milk and embrace
When I kicked I thought it would be our new play,
a mother and child game
I never meant to cause her pain
Never wanted her to take those pills
To meet that man, I hear they call him Doctor
Together they chased and flushed me
Where could I turn to? You were my home
Who could I cry to? you were my hope
I felt at home in your womb
But yesterday you placed a bomb
And today your womb becomes my tomb..