A HOLE IN MY HEART
There was this woman at our gate I used to throw stones at her

A HOLE IN MY HEART

By Lewis Wamwanda

When I was growing up

At every dawn I woke up

There was this woman at our gate

I used to throw stones at her

 

Papa never allowed me to stay close

And each time I could see her

I could pour insults at her

She was dirty and stunk

 

I could offer rotten food to her

And could laugh at her wrinkled face

She was black and ugly

Limped when we threw garbage at her

 

She never talked,

And I would be happy to see her rained on

She stunk, she was ugly, and wore dirty clothes

I hated her.

 

She died last year of pneumonia

And the eulogy named her my mother

As I write this piece

She left a hole in my heart

©Lewis Wamwanda

This Post Has One Comment

  1. Baya Osborn

    Touched Sir. Thank you

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