Sensitive topic

Raped They say you are supposed to love a child, If you birthed it. But I don't love mine, Because it came from rape.

I didn't ask for what came my way, To be tied to a chair, Used like a toy, Raged and tattered and violated, Then to be thrown in the streets.

I don't love the child, Infact I hate that thing. Should I be mature at the age of fifteen, Just because I was tainted by those monsters.

I am a child myself, Should have been playing, learning and dancing. I wasn't suppose to witness that horrendous cruelty. But initially, I did.

Men my father's age, Took my age from me. I cried, I begged but eventually they beat me, Tortured me, scared me and killed me internally, I was barely alive.

Now am I supposed to love this child? Tell me world, tell me people— don't you have a heart? A child born from my defiled innocence, Am I supposed to be mother to it.

So I left it, at the door step of a human, I hope this child never experience what it is born from. But if somewhere in the future this child becomes a monster, I hope it can be anything but just not a molester.

Shu

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