Genetic Dilution

No.
Genetic drift not possible,
My son will never born,
He is dead before conceived.

What an illusion I'd witness in the dream
All the wisdom accumulated in years
Vanished into air in seconds.
I'm ineligible to procreate
God has rated me second class human.

I could hear the cry of my son
But who will give flesh and bones
To the wondering soul?
I'm made aware not to pollute the world further,
My ideas succumbed to the theory of purity,
Probably the world is true
I can't conceive pure-caste infant.

O' my son's soul
Your father, a pronounced ineligible
To give you shape in flesh and bone.
Don't wonder, don't wait further
Look for some one else
Who has the right to give you breath.


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