I can't forget the day
I was in hurry
But I had to delay,
It was so dark, that I could not see well
My ears wide open
I could mark some noise
Such a little cry
Almost made me dry
That time, a chilly morning
I couldn't expect it
But now grew clear
Rarely do I met
People at such a time
"But today, why this strange?"
All I could ask, but none to answer
I heard it again, yes, from the little carton
Oh! What a magic thing?
A speaking carton!
Is it one of it? The ogre stories happening now?
"I have to confirm it"
I told my mind
What a doomed world?
Guess what I met!
I could not utter a word
A young baby, wrapped in fine linen
In a bloody state, abandoned to suffocate
I found it hard
To pick it out
So soft it was, just like a cotton
I looked around, the mother! Nowhere to be seen
I covered her well, and ready to go,
I raised her
Today,
A beautiful lady
She is my daughter
I find it hard to tell her the story
I thank the Lord, for the speaking carton
I curse the act
Abandoning the little angels
As much you can, raise them well
Neither should kill their being
Nor should you abort their life.
The Speaking Carton
Francis Omariba
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Poem topics: baby, beautiful, dark, daughter, life, magic, mother, people, world, raise, ready, young, wide, clear, answer, mind, morning, story, forget, lady, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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