The Single mother
It begins at sunset
When I was weary and upset
That I as a bird must perch
But not on a lonely bench
From house to house
Like the grey bearded mouse
Standing on a distant thatch
Like the French, Akan's and the Dutch
Hiding behind the shadows of fear
But cool and calm like my dear
Brewed from doubt and superstition
As if it a firm standing institution
Under the moonlight I settled
Waiting patiently to meddle
In the affairs of man not beast
Because I do not have a nest
Looking on unconcerned
Like the hyena unperturbed
I see a newly born mother
Cold and without a father
Nurse her uncaring baby alone
As her cries slice sharp in hone
No husband, stale future
Her heart in fracture
And burden hangs onto her neck
Like gold shaped deck
In her left eyes I see fear
With no one to pity and save her
In her right eye I see doubt
Draining her life away like draught
She is hopelessly compassionate
While the world looks on dispassionate
At the single mother at the corner
Like the old Spanish Donna
But it is a pity
That her only duty
Is to commit her life
Like the bees in hives
The same way she was born
By a shameless father and a mom
She gave birth
Too early like death