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Poem
She bares a striking 
resemblance to early morning 
mist
Pure and innocent her scent 
reflects on the faces of those 
who devour the finest incense
She has
Coloured the world with her 
smile
Captured our souls for a while 
The birthmark she carries looks 
so much like mine
Bring back my baby
Bring back my child

Oh young sir, have you no soul?
I see dead holes where sockets 
once held eyes 
I grieve at the sight of your 
frown's hardened lines
I saw blinding sweat beads 
emerge from your rage ridden 
chest
Grotesque, the sight of a rock 
where your used to rest
Sir, I know not how your rage 
was conceived nor how your 
hatred learned to breathe
I assure you, it was not me
Don't punish me please
Give me my niece

Were you not a child?
Did you not tear through the 
walls of a young woman's 
thighs?
Were you not born into her 
warm embrace, cradled, 
sheltered one look and she 
melted
Why then, is my angel 
shackled?

Sir where is your heart?
I too bore a living, breathing 
being from these very parts of 
mine
My own innermost parts ripped 
open when she tore through me, 
pushing
As I wailed
Pushing, pushing to claim her 
rightful place among the queens 
that grace our planet. 
What joy!
To have been honoured and 
blessed with a fraction of the 
Lord's perfect grace
Am I not here to build nations?
Why then Sir, do you deprive 
me of her precious face?

Son, have you no sisters?
No teacher?
No mother?
No daughter?

Bring her home, I'm begging 
please
So I may teach her to bare sons 
just like you
Hard, lifeless structures, 
breathing corpses
That exude your heartless 
nature
Ones to inherit your venemous 
stature
Bring her home please
Let me teach her to bring your 
grandsons to their knees
I beg of you,
Let me teach her to bare sons 
that will rob you of your own 
granddaughters. 

Tell me sir, 
Have you died?
Has your soul left you?
Do you not hear her cry?
Do you not cringe at her gut-
wrenching screams 

Mama, I want to come home!
Mister, I want to go home!
I want to be free
Someone 
Save me 
Please?
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