Written on Saturday
October 22, 2022
At 11: 10
Listen, I have a story,
About an African family.
A father who worked 16 hours a day,
For his children roses to lay.
A mom who stayed at home,
To be in charge of a raging storm,
Something not out of the norm.
Caring for children wild and unbidden,
Wishing her sins were forgiven.
A little background on who they were,
Before they were to be mother and father.
Dad was a lazy man with no ambition,
But as soon as he learned his children were in the equation,
He knew he had a job to be done.
Because he wanted his kids safe from the heat of the Sun,
And the chilly wind of the night when it's gone.
He was strict and old-fashioned,
Yet his kids he dearly loved.
Some would say to the moon and back,
But it was even when disease struck.
Even as misery to his heart clung,
His heart for them had sung,
A different melody for each one,
Like his blood had always known.
Oh how wonderful was his love,
How true was it to know they were enough.
Mama was very rough,
She wanted them robust and tough.
My African warriors she'd say,
To them as they paved their way,
In this unjust world to their dismay.
She was hard to please, their mother,
But her children she loved like no other.
So fierce, so strong for her daughter's sake,
Couldn't let anyone see her suffer or break.
She wouldn't bend to a man's will,
Amidst chaos she was silent and still.
Because she knew she had a war to win,
So she waited till she had a full tin.
Oh how patiently she's waited for this,
The moment her warriors would rise,
And with them she shall shine,
To finally call victory mine.
The story of an African family,
Is so complicated in its delicacy.
How I wish for you to see,
To live in constant uncertainty.