I have cried for years,
I have prayed enough,
It isn’t something anomalous I ask for.
I want what is mine.
It isn’t easy to sit here and listen to them,
speak of what I have been deprived,
Of what I have been denied.
I too want my share of bliss,
of what every woman is showered with.
I too want those sleepless nights,
to feel it grow and move within me.
I too can go through any level of pain,
Just to hold my born in my arms.
I too want those little feet to run around,
That innocent laughter and those cry,
Waking me in the middle of the nights.
I too need a reason to live for.
I too want to feel those tiny hands holding my finger,
Listen to the gibberish talk
Only I could understand.
I too wish to be called a MOTHER.