The Widow

In the black cloth of wednesday misery I saw her in the dark tunnel She sold her soul to mourn her mortal husband Who left without even a goodbye to her Her hair cut in a fashionable manner She sat among wolves weeping for help Her black shabby cloth mock her being Death has sold her into slavery And thrust her children into the street of misery Neck bent low in the powerful concoction of emotion I asked her why she wallow in fear whilst the day still young She told me the ear breaking news of the donkey years her Husband's bathing water was given to her to drink I saw them holding her firmly, forcing he like a funeral ram She felt like the inexperienced kite who went carrying A duckling but was ordered by its mother to return it Because the duck had said nothing but silence, just walk away, it means a lot. "Go carry a chick, it mother shouts and curses and the Matter ends there" she told her child Why torment her, why torment her? She didn't kill him nor was she the reason why he died I screamed in anger against the black hearts They told me its the tradition of the blacks They whispered a word so barbaric to my ears I watched them handed her over to her husband's brother That lady was too pretty to be tormented by tradition I saw her rose broken in public, her pride tarnished i hid my self but couldn't hide the pains Oh Africa, why deposit thou suffering on womanhood? Delivering in pains, pregnant in tears When husbands die, the woman killed him But when wife dies, the husband love another. I reject motherhood if this what they pass Through in this civilised world of joy. Hear me all evil doers heaven have its judgment When i watched them took her away She told me to talk good of her to her children Then i woke up and discovered i was still in this Evil world where widows are tormented.