The Victimised Baby

People love babies but my case is different, 

No one loves to cuddle or carry me, 

Abandoned,  neglected and uncared for, 

They avoid me like a dog's dump, 

I am like an helpless wretch, 

Even my father hadn't planned for me, 

He just let pleasure cloud his judgement.

For five minutes pleasure,  he became a monster, 

Tearing through,  beating and forcing, 

That poor and hungry hawker was no match for him, 

She wanted only to sell and survive, 

His five minutes of being a beast shattered her forever, 

His strength weakened her, his strains equalled her groans, 

She never saw him again, yet loved me from the womb. 

My coming to life took hers, 

So I was tagged a witch and symbol of misfortune, 

So I'll never stop wondering, 

How it ever is my fault, 

When I am helpless and frail, 

That poor hawker was the only one that ever loved me, 

The more they jeered at her,  the more she held on, 

I am a product of helplessness, thoughtlessness and hate,

Would you rather hate me to?

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