
The Writers Voice
The World's
Favourite Literary Website

I Am The Mother
by
Uzma Sadaf

I am the mother
I remain impatient
There is no saviour
Where should I take my bewailing children
I knocked at every house, every door
There is a crowed that does not listen
Or does not want to listen to my crying voice
The doctors, showing themselves to be the saviours
Are busy in the sport of life and death
I tried to make them listen but all in vain
I kept on flying in between the skies and the earth
My aspirations turned into sighs
And began to creep on my body
Suck my blood and stuffing sand there instead
So now there is a long desert in my eyes
And the scattering and the staggering life.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work
