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 .