In the grey of the morning
I heard the only cry of a bird.
Or is it the sound of a child
Then you were on piece of a torn bag
Getting bluer by the minute.
The I realised!
I found a pair of scissors and thread/ string
Checked you and cut the connection.
Buried the rubbish;
Washed your mother
And then you - so blue!
I wrapped you up in cloth
And took you to your mother.
All the time you tried to cry
But I told you "Shut up. People are listening."
And silently, without words I said
"Your own uncles hate your mother
For bringing you into this world.
Make it easier for her by shutting up.
And you've never cried since that
Early Saturday morning at 5 am 9th April 2016.
Thus you are will be called Neblina.