So I must die young,
So young I can almost fit in a cupped hand.
So young my eyes cannot understand the light,
For all I known if the balmy, pinkish dark.
And I’m not good enough for a chance,
To prove myself, to rise, high,
And touch the stars forbade to me
Because I will not be born a man.
I am just dust, dirt, a girl.
No silken cot will welcome me,
No warm bosom, no soft breath
Over my head, as I stretch my hand
And tangle a lock of hair with my tiny fingers.
And I must be sacrificed to give
A boy a chance to take what is mine,
Denied by those who ought to love me
Because, no matter how perfect I may be,
I won’t grow to be a man.
So I am to die, young,
So young, mum, you could
Have cupped the whole of me in your hands.