My child tasted half-cooked milk,
As their only siblings watched in tears,
Yearning for my ovaries grounds ,
To the warmth of my nurturing care.
No milk from my breast did flow,
No energy left to breastfeed,
No water to induce a drop of urine,
The child regrets having such a mother.
A mother with but a droplet of milk,
A mother drained of all her strength,
Allergic to even the act of breastfeeding,
A life accident my child, a wish not from me
Nights stretch on for eternity,
Twice the time God made,
Darkness blankets my house ,
Oh! The bitter cold and searing heat.
The house I inhabit has countless vents,
A hundred windows as vast as the president\'s palace,
Yet, I find no joy in this world,
My children echo the same sentiment.
I dream of change daily, but it never comes,
I am lost, without a path forward,
Only to witness the congregation,
Mourning me and my three children,
Lowering our humble bodies,
Into the earth, our final abode.