The Africa's Albinos
They broke into a year old's grave,
looking for her hands, legs and sexuality!
not that she had gold,
but she just lacked color pigment.
Imagine having no peace even in the grave.
One undertaker feared a girl's ghost
or maybe a curse
and declined to make her a grave.
They buried her in her parents' house.
As if lacking pigment is not stress enough,
their own families call them 'curse'
Even other little ones flee them.
They fear mutations or death
they are vulnerable.
Someone protect the African Albinos
This poem is about:
Our world