In the shade of our tamarind tree, I often think about you, my baby. You would have been four by now, Maybe just started school. Your mother loves you, I want you To know that. But then you always question. You ask me, "Why did you stop me ? Was I not reason enough for Happiness ?" You were, my child, you were. I stopped you, I did not want you to die in the way I do. Every single day. My blood and tears are reason enough To stop you. Maybe some other world Is ours. Where I can keep you hidden From vile eyes, words and touch. Where I can see you smile, walk and grow. Where I can beam after watching your laughter. In the shade of our tamarind tree, I often think about you, my baby.