She has a body
Made of uncountable
Sizes, shapes and colours.

In her sole trade of basic needs,
She has a child for inspiration:
In a pram…
In a promise…
In her womb…
At her side…
On her arms…
A still born one…

She has a body
Yet,
It is unfair;
As life is;
Mutilated in her inside.

Hopes and dreams
One by one bleakly dismantled:
Justice system…
Health procedures…
Looming translations…
Indifference…
Rejections…
Recurrent advice:
‘Move on!
Just grow up!’

She is invisible to all.
Still
she goes in search
of life paths