She stood by his grave,
Words could not depict the pain she bore,
He left her to face this cruel world,
Alone.
The choir melodiously sang the funeral hymns,
Hymns that could barely make her feel better,
The love of her life was gone forever.
The debt collectors had heard of the funeral,
They took everything -even what she never owed,
Her cries echoed in the void,
Her land was taken, the in-laws decreed,
‘Our brother worked for this’, their only plea
He could no longer fight for her
Her mind wandered away,
As she thought about her late husband.
She prepared porridge for her son,
He devoured as if it was made of honey,
Thin and frail,
His dark hair fading,
Yet he smiled with gratitude,
I will make your life better someday,
She whispered.
She left for the city,
Greener pastures had knocked at her door,
Her positive energy made way and she followed,
‘She killed her husband,’
Villagers would gossiped.
She glowed, nevertheless.
Every day.
Her child was healthier,
She promised to build a better life,
For her son, her light.
About the Author
