By Shem Onderi
The decorations outside are never as attractive as they should be.
The shape and size are painfully small —
immensely small.
To parents, a child is the greatest gift when alive.
To society, it is its future —
perhaps a future man of cloth, a poet,
or a teacher to guide and enlighten.
Children should not die;
they should be allowed to grow.
A casket carrying a baby
is unbearably heavy, haunting to the mind.
The pallbearers wrestle with wavering souls,
as the young one lies in uneasy rest.
Fewer hands are needed to lower it down,
yet the journey feels endless.
Tears fall for the tiny casket.
The grave, small — light work for the diggers,
but a heart-breaking task to complete.
When a child dies,
a future is buried too.