Mother

I don't remember whose wonderful piece of work this is, blessed is the author!I wont say anymore, the poetry will do the rest.


Mother, you used to tell me

when I was born

your labour was very long.

The reason, mother,

the reason for your long labour:

I, still in your womb, was wondering

Do I want to be born-

Do I want to be born at all

in this land?

Where all paths raced horizonwards

but to me were barred…