Does My Mummy Love Me?

Dreaming away in the warmth of the womb,
A miniature bud was about to bloom.

This little life lived, without a care,
Nothing could scare her, no one would dare.

Restlessly waiting for that loving stroke,
Assuming attention, she would gently poke.

Naïve to what tomorrow would bring,
She felt that love, which made her swing.

Each passing day she would value more,
Mummy loved her most, she was ever so sure.

That day she felt a sense of gloom,
Not knowing if she’d meet her doom.

The little life’s fear and strain grew more,
Her frail body hurt, she was dreadfully sore.

About to faint with pain so deep,
How hurtful was that nasty sleep.

Her tiny limbs began to shake,
The sting was such she could not take.

She silently kept on screaming and shrieking,
Protection and safety were what she was seeking.

O Mummy, O Mummy, please hold me tight,
She kept on pleading in her desperate fright.

“Sorry my child, there’s no place for you,
Mummy can’t keep you, it’s sad but true.”

Craving and hoping for Mummy’s embrace,
That little soul left without a trace.

Prepare an answer to Allah’s question,
Choosing life or death; is it your decision?
And when the female (infant) buried alive shall be questioned. For what sin she was killed? (Surah Takweer:8,9)

Published by

Maria K. Siddiqui

Maria is an artist, counselor and art therapist in training.