The Dead Child’s First Birthday

The tree of our love,
bore a fruit.
A baby was born,
happiness in pursuit.

The beady eyes
half open,half closed.
The tiny body,
my warmth enclosed.

Months passed,
first words my angel uttered.
‘ma’, words sweetest
I ever heard.

Happiness as ever,shortlived.
Jealous Gods, sinister Devils,
BitchY karma thrived.
Punishing my past evils.

Wicked wild stole snatched,
my only child.
The pain,
No,not mild.

Next saturday,his birthday.
A dead child’s first birthday.

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