On the everest of joy
And the malfeasance in freedom
I have railed the ways towards the dream
I lived within the womb of my colonial mother.
I am sixty and I am a man.
From the vibrance of a teenage
Amidst fouls of youthful curiosity
And challenges of menopaused wives,
I have raised the children we bore.
Posterity be my judge.
The father I am is not perfect
But I will be perfect a father
To fill the bellies of my offsprings
And dress them with lasting smiles
Not in pauses. I know.
So I am sixty and growing
If I did better, more would I be glowing
But as long as you keep me alive
I shall not waver on my rail to every father’s dream :
The best for his children.
I could blame times I was in pieces
But no!! I urge, just keep me with peace.
© Lansah Lawrence
March 6, 2017.