The birth of a girl child, the birth of a spirit,
Cursed condition, no jollification,
Only a balky situation;
Entire class in agitation.
Crabby feelings;
No love, no amour.
No inclination, no obligation.
A princess permeating jollity,
A beauty multiplying levity.
Her giggle is a pure magic,
Yet treated like dust and dirty.
Solely makes the world bright,
Still battles to see the light.
Grant her the wings to fly,
Not the injury to cry and die.
Furnishing possessions to a son,
A blunt ‘NO’ to a girl.
Dreams shattered, ambitions killed,
Leaving her pain-filled.
Is her only sin that she was born a girl child?
Oh you jerky people! This is so wild.
It’s time!
To beat the drum,
And paint the town red.
Go celebrate her life,
With glory and clap.
Jubilate her birth and take a bow,
Feel the pain, are you still ashamed now?
