Such that the setting is to the East
And the rising is from the West?
Shall we call it a normal day?
Or we will say God has come to wipe sinners away?
Life, its misfortunes and ignominious situations
Has led me not trust anything, I have become unfaithful and hopeless
But shall I live dead breathing forever?
What if I offered the solution to the problems?
So that when I die, I be forgotten not, but rather leave a memory
What if all of us were world changers and messengers of love and hope?
Shall I be writing about these imbalances and pains of life?
What if women were able to be read on their faces?
I could have read what my mother meant
When every night she could take her handkerchief and clean tears in her eyes
Then say, “Junior, in tears lies happiness, I am happy”
Why not a smile? What did she mean by saying this?
What if she didn’t shed that for six consecutive years,
Could she have been with me here today?
What if I too begin crying today through my pen,
Am I going to follow her down ,six feet under and listen to her?
Mama, I miss you
What if policemen could have stopped the mob justice in cells
Could my father be here today with me?
Watching his son taking the mic, and let the tongue talk to them?
What if the Nation had said that only courts have got justice
And that cells are offices of detention?
I guess then they couldn’t have broken his ribcage
A termination of life!
What if they knew I needed a father figure in my life
Like an eagle soaring high to the skies
I am a rising star, but then my light can’t be felt in the world
What if all poets, playwrights and activists stood with me?
We could have fought as a family, justice for all
What if they knew that both death and life are gifts
That comes once in a lifetime, at a particular moment
Die, meet with the creator, heaven and hell a reward
Live today, longer as you please, face troubles in life
They would have chosen one; to live a single day like a lion
Rather than live a thousand years as a sheep
What if I die today?
What shall be written in the obituary?
What if I tell them never to mourn me
For it will be end of a struggle?
Will they hear me?
What if they knew I cried immediately after birth, a man of catastrophes I was born
Would they say, “he has rested?’
© *Hector De Poet*
*Roberto De Khalifa (fb)*