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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I am sorry, I am very sorry, This is for my daughter I mean my young, beautiful pet. That was it, the voice of my friend Who now prides himself Of another daughter across the street Only God knows how many of such I mean those susceptible to his carrot. Indeed, very young Full of life to live Looking innocently attractive Until he crept into her life. Her Aunt’s door left ajar She fell like a pack of card. He dazzles her Aunt with intermittent gifts He branded the girl “My daughter” My innocent friend became a father And dangles before his daughter a lanky carrot. As times tickles away, The daughter not only eats the golden carrot But she swallows it gently with exactitude Yet, her Aunt saw no changes When carrots thickens her sister’s hips And her flat buttocks getting curved roundly While her chest pointer getting shaped Her Aunt still blinded with gifts of “Suya and bread”. Here comes this day knocking As my friend’s daughter Vomits and coughs repeatedly, She feigned to be well before her Aunt. “Nothing, I’m okay” She smiled to her friends And pretends to all But grim only at her father The act got caught short Not for too long, Now we all know, That she has swallowed her father’s carrot And it got stucked in her throat. When?, Where?, Who?, her Aunt queried Three months ago, she retorted My . . . My . . . My . . . father, she replied. Before eyes got blinked, My friend’s was out of town In search of another daughter. Alayande Stephen T. 11.05am 4th August, 2007 Spiced up for my good friend Tope and his daughter. It all happened on my visit to Abuja. Suya- An Hausa language (from Nigeria) for roasted meat.
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