Sunday, August 25, 2019

Luxembourg ~ Sunday, 25 August 2019

I was almost born a human being 

were I allowed to survive outside the womb, 
as unwanted flesh, blood and bone, I died 
since I was denied a chance to seeing 

a way out of this catastrophe, death 
leaves me motionless, without emotion, 
mindless, without spirit, trapped in this tomb, 
obscenely called a discarded fetus, 
struggle to move, I heard my mom, she cried, 
trouble with dad, he paid for an abortion, 

born with a scrape and a flick of the wrist, 
only the doctor was a backstreet hack, 
resting on his laurels as a butcher, 
noble is the baby, born without breath, 

as mother died, father would not meet us, 

humble is the man without airs, he may lack 
understanding but he cannot resist 
man's inhumanity as a cop out, 
as a servant of public opinion, 
no one will know she died on a stretcher, 

being carried in a meat truck with flies, 
eventually arriving at the morgue, 
in her autopsy, she smelled of onion, 
nobody ever knew she died, her cries 
gave the neighbors a sense, her pains were gout. 

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