Plight of An African Widow
My heart bleeds when I think of this culture ,
My piteous life can’t fathom this picture ,
Callousness !,how can man descend so low
To acclaim wickedness as part of nature ,
For tradition is unfair to a widow .
My blood stained skirt can’t be washed clean ,
Barbaric dark custom that could be seen ,
To drink bath water of the corpse is not good ,
Or sleep beside the dead through the night is obscene ,
I saunter through threshold of sorrow and hardwood .
My eyes..red, my dismal life is brought to light ,
Sad! That all we worked for is taken by fight ,
Labeled as a man killer with no prove found ,
How can tradition be so cruel without foresight ,
That my husband in-laws turned their back around.
Conception of shame and pain reigns in my brain ,
Which makes me sick and almost go insane ,
In this modern age ,justice must be done ,
Robbed off and reduced to someone without gain,
How can this wrong be right and this battle won ?.
9-22-2017
CONTEST: Rhyme Time with 5 sponsored by Laura Loo .
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