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Home » Poetry » Issue 2 » I am coming home Mama

I am coming home Mama

At dawn, as the singing birds of the air,
The buzzing insects with voices so sweet and fair
Submerge into a collaboration of sweet forest song
My soul is not rejoicing with them.

My soul is preparing for another day
To be spent wearing overalls of despair
Whose leaking pockets
Mock my very life.

At dusk, as they embrace each other
I have only my knees to hug, mama
And as they share supper spoils,
I only have water to quench both hunger and thirst.

All l ever wanted was
To kiss the moon, mama
Bask in its luminous radiance
And dine with the flickering stars
But I’ve been eating from opportunity’s empty bowl.

I’m coming home, mama –
I’ll live happily in your collapsing hut
Whose gaping eyes whimper tears of uncertainty

I’m coming home mama
Where we shall share empty pots of hope,
Our stomach swelling with love and warmth

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