This poem was inspired by a news story of a businessman who helped a poor woman recover her baby.

Because I was poor
I sold my baby girl
I had five kids to feed
I needed money to survive
I am sorry to be alive

A childless woman
Who wanted a child
Bought my baby
I need to be strong
Overlook her beauty
Find the courage to forget her

I sold my baby girl
I am nervous and awake all night
I am sad and I cannot
Face my five children
I am afraid of being human.

I can’t explain why I did this
Don’t try and defend me
I sold my baby
I was forced to
Sell my valuable jewel
I am sorry to be alive.

By Asma

Photo by Resolute Support Media