Papa In The Grave, Mama On The Wheelchair
So the little girl heard that night
Words of hatred papa uttered
First gun shot from the bedroom
More gun shots fired
So the little girl closed her ears
Tears down the little girl’s cheeks flowed
Too scared to shout for help
Papa thoughtlessly shot mama that night
Then turned the gun on himself
Misinformed was papa by a friend
Tragedy took my papa away from me
Death stole my papa too soon
Grave in cruelty swallowed my papa
Alas who will help me now
Papa taught me how to read
It was papa who taught me how to swim
Papa watched me play in the garden
Papa carried me on his shoulders
Papa put me to bed every night
Papa went to the grave early
Grave opened its mouth for my papa
Earth opened her mouth for papa’s blood
Mama now on wheelchair bound she is
Fighting limitations of disability
No friend available for my mama
Oh how I wish I could do something
Perhaps a little prayer I should have prayed
Papa would have been alive today
To watch me graduate from varsity
To walk me down the aisle when I marry
Papa will not see me grow up
Not sure if papa made it to heaven
A haste decision papa took that day
Shedding blood destroying his life
Doreen C Mampani
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 10/26/2021
Poet's note: I wrote this poem in 2017 and published it in my book entitled "Nobody Thinks About Me But I Must Think About Them". This poem is based on what people do under the influence of alcohol and drugs.
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