MERCY

Cynthia
I have lived like a wife in our house,
I have lived with pain inside my blouse,
I was born of him,
He gave birth with me.

It began when I was nine,
Those days my eyes loved to see what my feet drew,
Those moments when I felt safer closer to his arms,
I oftenly spent time on his thighs.

The sittings shifted to the bed,
Then we played the game of heads,
Grew into the game of pillows
Then mum sent me to school.

They never made love together,
They always quarrelled over her sister,
She took her back to her parents,
The same day I came back on holiday.

He forced himself inside myself,
Covered my nose until I passed out,
He dropped me and left,
I never saw him again.

My mum always prayed by midnight,
Hoping someday my baby will not ask,
Hoping someday my baby will get the love I lost,
She prayed.

So don’t ask me anything about mercy,
She’s everything I can see,
Love, sweetness and light resides in her,
She’s my husband.

I love her,
She’ll be my baby’s breath,
She’ll be my baby’s friend,
She’ll be my baby’s best dad.