Speak more, our dear sister!
Of the beauties beyond our land!
Speak more for our ears have long waited.
And our hearts are patient.
Tell us what happened, Amoke.
Your eyes tell a thousand words!
Your lips tremble in shame
You, the pride of Igede
Whose eyes were a glimpse of hope?
What amiss, we beg for answers.
What happened?
For our feet twirls in spirals!
You all should cease the quake of questions
Erase the codes to your gossiping minds.
Shut your curious eyes
If necessary,
Go to bed.
For those who can't clutch their bed in silence!
Would be squeezed in noisy caskets.
And if you take me for a parrot,
I've returned a dove!
And if you take me a dove,
I've come to a parrot.
Leave me alone,
To live my life.
Let me enjoy the air I've long inhaled,
Can I?
Sorry, Amoke
Sorry!
Patience is the healer of wounds,
Hidden from the eyes.
Anger is the poison of the soul.
It's a bitterness in the burning cold,
That eats you up inside.
How long would you hold
A grudge against your only child?
D
won't cry for me
My daughter, indulgence called her.
And I only have love to offer.
The hen that called for dawn
Is silent in the dark.
The demon that possessed my daughter,
Is a tough one.
Who will I ask for help?
Who do I cry unto?
Ask the gods,
Offer them sacrifice!
And maybe my absence
Will reborn my affection for her
And this anguish
Will someday fade away.
Cover me,
Cover me under your sleeves, my sisters.
Mothers!
May you know no pain of losing your daughter while alive.
The affliction of the rest of my days
Feels heavier to bear,
My lingering tears crucified time.
Why don't you ask Labimpe,
That bright daughter of yours
For acceptance?
No one needs to hide,
No one needs to cry.
Am I to seek her forgiveness,
After sacrificing my all
For my only child?
I brought her nothing but happiness,
Why am I still to accept her rejection?
Only the guilty
Should be scared of rejection!
But this in this family business
I've accepted her rejection.
Labimpe is no longer one of us.
That alone is her decision.
Her doors of remaining
Are long locked.
It's padlocks are rotten,
And the keys were misplaced.
YOU ARE READING
My Voice, My Choice
Poetry#1 in africanpoetry #6 in racist This poem collection contains various atrocities that happens between mothers and their daughters. 'My Voice, My Choice' is a debate between an educated daughter and her illiterate mother. Experience is the best teac...
