LEAVING THEM BE

In my story I want to write myself a hero, I want to keep away the thorns

I draw strength from my father’s smile

My father has two rooms inside of him

Today he becomes this, tomorrow he becomes that,

To be like him I’ve given my back to the earth

In the day you’ll find him watering the earth with drops of sweat.

Father cannot express himself; his lips do not carry what his heart says.

He calls himself devoid of love, this night I found him kneeling in the sitting room, arms closed with tears streaming down his cheeks praying for us to be better, for us to never fail

He calls himself devoid of love, his lips do not carry what his heart says.

I’ll leave the wind to carry my story when I go,

That’s how Father says tales are created.

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Poem © Okolo Chinua

Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay (modified)