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www.facebook.com/WRRPoetry [A Mother’s Lament]
My wilted breast did suckle you
Your haven was my broken back
Toiled day and night to comfort you
With you strapped tightly to my back

Trained you in the ways of the Lord
Daily drawing you close to God
Trained you to be a real woman
To sell conscience and self to none

How come you choose to dine with pigs
Dressed in skimpies and coloured wigs
Selling to Dick, Tom and Harry
Robbing me of my earned glory

I talk no more amidst my peers
I cringe at words that hit my ears
You’ve stripped me bare under the sun
On a strange patch, nowhere to run.

You’ve painted black your father’s name
My rested womb is locked in shame
I’ve got no strength to take my life
I would have sought peace in a knife.

Written by: Alozor Michael Ikechukwu
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson