Days have gone
Mornings and nights have changed
Every new day my lifespan gets reduced
I keep on seeing people changing
Relatives fighting and allowing hate to occupy their life
And all this makes me think about you my son
Who is about to come to this world of ours.
Here, life is not easy or fair
People eat after sweating
Panhandlers on the streets beg
Some get coins from good hearted folks while others get beaten
A tycoon with a plenty of things snatches the little of the pauper
And at times, no proper justice is given for the oppressed.
Women cuckold their spouses
Others have severe accidents
To the extent they’re left with no chance to breathe again
They make their way to heaven or hell.
Well, my son, I’m not writing all these words with the intention to threaten you
Instead, I want you to know how this world is
And by the time you’ll come in it, try to speak and express yourself, walk with the truth and maintain a distance between you and the fools.
Stay away from drugs; help your mother and siblings in case I’ll not be there with you
Enlarge your eyes and see
Open your ears and listen to those in need
Promote a strong friendship
Between you and the paper and the pencil
They’ve been my friends for a long time believe me
They’re good friends and I’m pretty sure that they’ll comfort you in times of depression and difficulty
This is written from the bottom of my heart.
I love you my son.....
BY OBED SHYAKA