A wretched Birth On a humid April day of fifties, In a small remote hamlet, It was vesper time, Dust of cow herds covering the sky, A mother was in pain, Confined in a small room, A lantern burning in a corner, A baby was born, Black and pale as he was, Midwife left them in despair, Mother had to cut the cord, Clean the fluid splattered, Even with high new born mortality, Born in hostile and unsafe condition, The wretched one survived , To become a child specialist, Nature had different plans. #birth #wretched
