Monday, 22 April 2019

Father and son

Father and son

You want love?  You want love ?
Are you a woman? Are you a woman?
Are you my wife, young man?
I'm not supposed love you,
I made you, I didn't choose you
There's a difference and if you understand it you'll be a better man.

Look at me,
I've made a man of myself without a father,
I've worked day and night to give you and your sisters shelter,
I've single handedly maintained our family legacy,
And it was  the works of my hands that made He bless me?


And here you are chocking on your tongue whimpering  over love,
Are these the spills lord gave me?
An emotional millennial with tears for fists
What a shame! I see the legacy I have built turn to ruins in your hands and I weep myself to sleep!
I fool myself that  you will turn into  a man of worth
but the words you spew make me regret your birth.

In my days men would  break back to feed the pack,
They'd  be no time to get pats on the back,
you earned your worth by the blisters on your hand,
You made ends meet without compromise
Otherwise,  you would  be left to the hounds,
and that's all you'd be in life; a feast to scavengers.

Now here you are asking for love...
You disgust me, you're waste of good sperm

How do?

I'm tired! Tired of you thinking you know everything
You've been marinated in praise. So you feel heaven sent.
You've succeeded but men before you built empires you can only dream of.
Tell  me, what's it like with your head in the sky thinking you're some kind of Gabriel?

You think you have it figured out ayeh, you are no man
A man is no man if he is no father,  and a father is no father  having failed to make a reasonable man of his son, having failed to get his son to be better than him, to learn from his mistakes.

Ayeh all you do is leave me out in the pigs,
Lost in a world of greed, struggling to decipher our creed,
breast feeding off the widow because you chose to kill-
yourself when you turned your back and walked out that door,
It stings but its the truth, am a aloof, am a mad man spazzing.

You speak of trust, how about lust?
Can I trust you yet you could barely keep a woman?
What riches  do you have for me to scuffle over?
A house, barren land, maize fields of infested comb?
Honor? Your honour, I object that is nothing to bequest.



  

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