• whytequeen 34w

    Try Not to Cry

    Try not to cry
    for they are born
    with no hope but pain;
    to make you and I
    a complete nation.
    Crying their way into the world;
    Tears which brings joy to some.

    To a few,
    these little cries
    are the beginning of
    rejection and shame.
    For they are conceived in abomination
    But they in themselves
    are not abominable.
    Not before the Creator
    but before those
    who could not
    create a life
    or zip their pants.

    Try not to cry
    when I describe
    these horrific events;
    When I tell you
    this cruel fate
    is being decided
    right now
    on a bed
    so defiled with fornication.

    Try not to cry
    when they are rejected
    and denied by their fathers
    or when their mommas
    make that fatal decision.

    In ferocious finality, they rant
    “why bring a life
    you can’t keep?”
    But try not to cry
    when I tell you
    The untold sins
    committed by them.

    Try not to cry
    when I say
    those snuffed out little lives were eager to see this wicked world.

    Try not to cry
    when I tell you
    they were flushed away
    with putrid pills
    or uprooted
    with formidable forceps.

    Try not to cry
    as their bloody remains are abandoned on a pan
    and packaged
    in a polythene bag.

    Try not to cry
    as they scream
    “It’s too cold out here”
    or “I promise to be a good child,
    just let me exist”
    Amidst poking and pulling
    From their embryonic warmth.

    Try not to cry
    when you find them,
    covered in blood;
    blood which ought
    to have protected them.

    Try not to cry
    but tell the young ones
    to zip up.
    Tell them
    not to eat the food
    meant for elders.

    Tell them
    to reconsider pain
    before pleasure.
    Sing the consequences to them.
    Teach them the dance steps of abstinence and protection.

    Above all,
    try not to cry
    for I tell you
    these little ones
    rest in the garden of rebirth
    awaiting the right arms
    to be born again into.
    But ye who have committed this grave transgression-
    What shall be your plough?