My Babe Sister - Massacre
My name is Pooja
I am eight years old
I have a sister
Her name was Yogita
And she was four years old
Our papa always angry
He screams and he yells
I don’t think he be fond of us
It's painless to enlighten
Mom only lovability
When papa is not around
And when he is home
She hardly create no sound
Mom always out
By no means she is at home
Papa always under the influence,
And at all times alone
As soon as we perceive sound
Of those jiggle keys
We rush and hide from the view
We scuttle and entreaty
We discover a place
And curl up tight
I embrace my sister
And she embrace me
Opening the door
Papa then march in
without any sound
I pray inside, deep within
What will be after that …?
But Yogita, she was unable to aid herself
for the ache was just to a great extent
'Oh God' she scream
Why are you so mean?
Dad didn’t like what she had believed
And slap her even more
And with one last strike
tough and physically powerful
he drag away and watches
Yogita takes one last wheeze of air
Then falls to the floor where I sat
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poem by Ezna Stephna
Added by Poetry Lover
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