Cycle of life
Mahalekshmi Selvanathan
23.3.2004

A poem devoted to all children dying of Aids


A merry face he once owned,
A deep consequential eye he always shown,
Little did he know he’s destiny is gone,
Counting his days to die alone.

His toddler’s legs, his pliable baby arms,
His affectionate face will bring no harm,
To take him and feel him in my palm,
My tears flow, nothings to be done

He doesn’t merit dying this way,
No one will remember the day he sways,
Never will he see the happy days,
Leaving me thunderstruck, nothing to say

I really don’t comprehend, the cycle of life,
It wasn’t his blunder, but he pays the fine,
He smiles not knowing, he’s dying inside,
I’ll weep this soreness for the rest of my life

An innocent soul, God’s to grab,
Now he’ll snooze, his eternal nap,
Don’t die on me, not on my lap,
I prefer not to see, while your soul takes rest.