Dear Bastard
Dear bastard,
You are the mistake of a failed love affair
Your mother wasn’t aware of your existence
Till your father decided he wanted out
You were just a tiny clot of blood
But it was all your fault.
Your father tried his best to stay
But your mother kept crying at his door at night
So he left
She never saw him again but in your face
Poor bastard
You were never meant to live a life free from rebuke
You were never meant to taste the metal of a silver spoon,
Much less see it
Poor bastard
You will dig through the muck of the gutters and arise with a bottle clutched in your fist
And your eyes reddened by the drink
Your vision will never focus enough to handle the bastards you will beget
Years to come.
But, bastard, right now
You are just a tiny boy
Chasing tires along the streets of Accra.
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