When a baby takes his birth,
The atmosphere is filled with joy and mirth.
What awaits for him is smile and glee,
From all the family members of thee.
However, things were different when i was born,
What laid for me was darkness before the dawn.
There were no new toys, clothes, fairy tales waiting for me,
Instead I was inherited with HIV.
My parents who transferred me this disease,
Abandoned without hearing my pleas.
When my bones were still weak and feeble,
I was considered as though untouchable.
No one dared to come near me,
As they feared to be infected by me.
I cried, “Aids doesn’t spread through touch”,
But no one was there to hear by grudge.
I always longed for a friendly embrace,
All my loneliness which I thought would erase.
I wanted to grow and have best friends,
But all I had was sorrows at the end.
I suffered for no fault of mine,
And lost my childhood, a period so divine.
About the Creator
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More stories from Huzaifa Malik and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Winter Of Our Lives
We met during the winter of our lives When days are short and nights are long When trees lay bare and life lies hidden We met during the winter of our lives When the sun barely warms the ocean wave When the snow hung heavy on the bough We met during the winter of our lives When fists and words tortured us so When fear held more meaning than the sun We met during the winter of our lives When smiles were the only warmth we knew When we hungered but for a kindly touch
By Huzaifa Malik3 years ago in Poets
OF MOTHERHOOD.
Dear mother-to-be, I wanted to let you know how very, very special I think you are. I don't think there can be any job that is more meaningful than the one you are about to begin, that of being a mom. You are the most important person in the world to your precious unborn baby, and you will be for many years.
By Catherine Nyomenda5 days ago in Writers
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