What's so civil about war anyway ?

When I first held him in my hands
There was placenta & blood stuck to his hair strands
Oh! how proud I was to become mother to a baby boy
there was no bounds to my new found joy

As he was growing up to be a tiny tot
I narrated him stories of how for peace & freedom people fought
I got him aeroplanes & swords to play for fun
little did I know that one day he'd give up his pen to seriously hold a gun



As all mothers I had dreamed that my son would become a big man & for society build a steeple
but I never accounted that he could go on to head a group of terrorist people
I had dreamt of seeing him famous someday
& gave away our television after seeing him as a "wanted" that day ..

When I first held him in my hands
there was placenta and blood struck to his hair strands
When I held him today for the last time
there was blood stuck to his head along with a bad name

There was once no bounds to my happiness for being blessed with a boy
today I pray, no mother be cursed for such delusional joy ...


Comments

  1. i like your theme, but poor style of presentation, work on it?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Love Languages

Jumme ki raat

Black Rose