I die like a lonely tear
run dry before touching the earth
to let it know the pain
of which I was borne.

I fade off like a whisper
whose secret
remains hidden
from concerned ears.

I pooh and disappear
like a genie wished away
to utopias unknown
where mistakes resides.

While on a perky tit
my cries are silenced,
so is my breath stolen
to pay for the youth
I innocently ruined.

I am an African Child,
a ghetto child
and I die
before I blossom
die without a dream
for even sleep is a luxury.


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