Sentenced

Karem Barratt writes a beautiful piece about a heartbreaking subject

Whisper and the Roar

So I must die young,

So young I fit in a cupped hand.

So young my eyes cannot understand the light,

For all I’ve known if the balmy, pinkish dark.

And I’m not good enough for a chance,

To prove myself, to rise, high,

And touch the stars forbade to me

Because I will not be born a man.

I am just dust, dirt, a girl.

No silken cot will welcome me,

No warm bosom, no soft breath

Over my head, as I stretch my hand

And tangle a lock of hair with my tiny fingers.

And I must be sacrificed to give

A boy a chance to take what is mine,

Denied by those who ought to love me

The most, because, no matter

How perfect I may be, I won’t grow to be

A man. So I am to die, young,

So young, mum, you could

Have cupped…

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