(Image Source: Google)
It’s an outlandish love I chose,
On that auspicious moment,
When I discarded your pink ribbons,
and you wished you had just a son.
And I became pregnant again;
My salacious heart
Brimming with words,
You can never consider as your grandchildren.
You draped yourself in
the garland of sundew,
Hiding the macabre intentions,
You sought to trap my flying poems.
You castigated me,
Extolling wedding pictures,
Abashed brides gloating in beauty;
My age or perhaps younger;
They smile in their husband’s arms,
Amidst the silhouette of in-laws.
Let me tell you a secret, dear mother,
The photographer asked them to say, ‘cheese!’
My children are your threat,
Those dreams you nurtured
are now my poetic siesta.
The clock had a different plan.
Your little daughter in vermilion,
Enough!! Just enough!!
Our fates are twins,
Our children are our onus.
But oh dear mother, I’m too destitute to afford,
An ignorant father
Who will trash them in the black-hole,
The only pit you created for them.
‘You should get raped,’ you curse me.
I go back to writing,
Immune to your curses,
Oh, mother, I detest your dolly love.
My nomadic verse meditates.
If he comes,
I will dig the black-hole myself!!
NaPoWriMo *Day19* *Poem 19*