Karem Barratt writes a beautiful piece about a heartbreaking subject
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
View original post 8 more words