Female infanticide- Twisted Butterfly

I woke crying from a nightmare

where a baby laid in a trash can

unworthy to even recycle

worth less than a tin can

Her screams a mixture of hunger for both milk and mercy

Was she thrown there by the disappointed father who wanted a son

or laid there by the crying mother who knew death was gentler than life

Would kind hands find her or will her angel carry her home

Cold fingers of night strangle her,

nothing fuzzy

her blanket is the cold rain on her skin

Her sounds grow weaker

like your prayers for her

Where do you lay your head as hers fall under a layer of the trash

She is the birth of a woman’s beginning

She is the death of histories excuses

The hope she was to bring would have made beauty out of chaos and pain

cured the rips in the earth’s conscious

But her last breath just whispered a soft sound

And the best of what is left took her in soft arms

touched her with gentle lips

And turned away from us

the blind ugly that was left

I woke crying

My eyes opened to see

We are the ugly that’s left

---

I am a 44-year mom of three and a Nana to two.

I love to write, take pictures and dream.

I blog at  Twistdbutterfly 

Twistdbutterfly@instagram