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Jul 2015
It is a ******, Mom.
Don’t you realize it?
I am you and Dad’s love.
I know it’s difficult to have me in your womb.
But it is all worth.
I’ll make you proud, Mom.
Please don’t **** me.
Please don’t let me die, Mom.

It is a ******, Dad.
Don’t you realize it?
I am you and Mom’s love.
Why do you hate me, Dad?
'Cause I am a girl.
It’s a woman who gave birth to you.
It’s a woman who shares your every pain and joy.
I’ll make you proud, Dad.
Please don’t **** me.
Please don’t let me die, Dad.

Mom, don’t you want to bathe me
and dress your little girl like a princess?
Don’t you want to make my breakfast
while Dad makes me ready for the school?
Don’t you want to comb my hair
when it gets all messed up?

Dad, don’t you want to hear me say my first words?
Don’t you want to hold my fingers
and help me walk?
Don’t you want to clap
as I sing a song for you at the school concert?
Don’t you want to see your little princess
walk down aisle in a beautiful gown?

I want to dress up like Cinderella.
I want to tell everybody I'm Daddy’s little girl.
I want to dance gracefully like a ballerina.
I want to help you, Mom, with daily chores.
I will teach you how to make new delicious dishes.
We’ll watch movies together.
We’ll visit places together.
I want to be a teacher just like you Dad.
I want to help kids learn.
Please don’t **** my dreams, Dad.
Please don’t let my dreams die, Mom.

They have laws against foeticide.
But what’s the point of coming to this world,
when the persons supposed to love you most want you dead?
In already cruel world where crime against women are rampant,
how I am going to survive
without your love.
Please **** me, Dad.
Please let me die, Mom.

Devashish Kumar
Written by
Devashish Kumar  New Delhi, India
(New Delhi, India)   
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