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BITTER SOULS
*PART 2*
A vulture being a patient bird,
The above has proven so hard,
For the longest time a change I've waited,
Pity a watched pot never boils.
When we were stinking poor,
My own celebrated wildly,
In that hut out tears would pour,
In your mansion you laughed loudly.
All names mother was crowned,
A witch who was upto no good,
Causing havoc to everything you owned,
My innocent mother suffering was her food.
Roaming all witchdoctor doors,
Your terrible acts backfiring,
You blamed mother as the cause,
Stomaching all this became her chores.
Mother and daughters ganged against mine mother,
Her respect toward grandpa pained you,
Discrimination took a step further,
Still mother did not change her shoe.
Despite our sorrows we maintained our trust,
Hoping for the best preparing for the worst,
This longest trust developed rust,
Fading as the days passed.
*Zari*
*Part 3 loading*
© June Mwangangi (Zari)
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