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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: December 19, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 19, 2017



We call her Bliss, our youngest world

Yes, our little Princess, our little Bird!

Countless words are clenched in my fist

The other hand’s holding her velvety wrist!

My thumb’s caressing her butter-soft cheeks

The pain in her body pinches and tweaks!

Now she’s lying in my lap sleeping, so calm so serene

There is no mirror in her room to disturb or intervene!


An hour afore I though it’s been an ample time

I had a pang in heart if she could hurt herself or maim!

Oh there I went and stole a look through half opened door

A marker in her hand and I could bear no more!

‘Peace of my soul!’ I winced at what I saw

My knees just trembled; senses turned raw!

I wished I were able to gift her my breaths and days

I longed, ‘Oh God if I had the means if I had the ways!’


Tiptoeing with heavy heart I rested my cheek by the door side

The artist in the mirror looked like an innocent blushing bride!

Tiny little fingers sketched her hair with a beautiful red bowtie

And oh her lips had a smile as if she conquered the earth and sky!

‘Mama I’ll be pretty again if I have my hair back

I promise I’ll put the clips and trinkets in the safest rack!’

Her words agonized my existence and I folded her in my shawl

My eyes were closed but my heart did call!


I thought that EVIL had no strength to fight

That cancerous evil, for so long kept itself out of sight!

The day I came to know, my world was shaken

For eternity to belittle that frost, the promise was taken!

Assured, Bliss would badly let it down

She’d never get afraid; never even flinch at its frown!

And now as she sleeps, let me kiss her honeyed lips

I would say no more because my soul’s divining the rips!


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