Chilotem, The Rejected Being.
Aha, the sun has packed, 'tis nightfall;
Twilight witnessed your plight and fall;
Shame on mother's breasts and lap;
Father didn't deserve his groin flab.
Let this night tell of your suffering;
And of a precious gift undeserving.
The climate is cold once again;
They made you today;
But, your clay was gathered in vain;
For God hated you this same day;
Aha, break the buds, the pollinated;
We don't want a lily, rose or olive;
Chilotem, you were rejected;
Even before you could live.
Chilotem, none will sing of you;
You are a secret hidden from the blue;
Who will now announce your death;
When no one heard about your birth!
Or should I cry you as a dead;
When you never lived a life;
In that same bed in which you were bred;
Was where they plann'd to take your life.
You would have been a pharmacist;
Or an artist, a singer or linguist;
You would've gotten Ife's story;
And tell the truth of Bini's history;
You could have been a lawyer;
If those fools had let you linger;
You have not one, a mourner;
None will miss your little finger.
Your life was given no meaning;
No essence, only a wounded feeling;
Lotem, you have no name;
But that isn't your pain and shame;
I can call you anything;
When about you I'm writing.
When dry winds wave their brooms to sweep;
So that young flowers will not pout;
When young buds are strangled in their sleep;
Before they can even sprout;
When a caterpillar corpse did lie;
Before it becomes a butterfly;
I will r'member how you d'parted;
Chilotem, you were aborted...
Gone too soon.