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My Child, My Baby, Is Gone

A Tribute to the 2014 Peshawar School Massacre

By Ayesha JavedPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Kissed you on the forehead, just like every day.

Little did I know, from me, they’ll take you away.

Went about my usual waiting for you.

Little did I know of the horrors, waiting too.

Went to school, you did as I said.

Neither did we know, that soon you’d be dead.

What horrific last memories you must have made.

If only goodbye that day I hadn’t bade.

My child was ripped from my warm arms.

My lap, from where you sat in it, still feels warm.

My chest aches from your absence in it.

My dear, my child, my sorrow is infinite.

The innocence that was plucked so easily from this world.

The likes of their cowardice and my anger have never been heard.

But what good is that anger now, my baby is gone.

Separating us, the time and distance, is long.

My chest aches for seeing your face again.

If only I had known what would happen as the day began.

I would have kept my lovely under sheltered shade.

Your existence might not have led to fade.

Oh! My dearest, my child, how will I go on.

Without your laughter that had everyone drawn.

I find the need to scream at the universe.

Nothing it could have done that would have been worse.

My child! My baby is gone.

For this war, it seems, just another pawn.

But he was my entire world, don’t you know.

The darkness left behind, I could neither tell of or show.

A child is taken from his mother again.

Why did this tragedy ever began.

sad poetry
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