News July 14, 2014 at 04:01 pm

Poem: Regretful Reminiscence

Diolu Tobechukwu July 14, 2014 at 04:01 pm

July 14, 2014 at 04:01 pm | News

Domestic violence

As I was about to sleep, I heard the crying and wailing of a woman next door who was being whipped by her notoriously abusive drunkard husband, and in pain and anger, she said, ‘You will die shamefully,’ (in yoruba). I thought about that for sometime as it continued almost all though the night, which inspired this poem.

Watching from a distance, from a world beyond…
He witnessed his funeral, which didn’t last for long….
The mild synthesized strings accompanied by a hymnal song…
‘Only remembered by what he has done’…

He quivered as he reminisced on the deeds of his youth…
How he lived in lies, never taking cognizance of the truth…
As his stone cold pale body lied in the casket…
His scandals were revealed; no more could he mask it…

Bowing his head as he witnessed his sympathizers scornfully morn…
Being few, his haughty expression had shut out everyone…
His smugness, egocentric, and discourteous antirational mannerism…
How he would often ridicule inferior folks with sarcasms…

Looking around as he sought his disarrayed family…
Multiple wives, unfamiliar kids, and his entire company…
The scars on the face of his wife who he often battered in offense…
His wayward children, who he never gave audience…
Having no real friends, they all stood there in pretense…
Impatiently waiting for their portion of his inheritance…

The cloud gathered as it began to shower…
Realizing he lived a wasted life till the last hour…
He paused as he noticed an old scruffy woman shedding genuine tears…  
Opps! His estranged Mother he neglected in the village for many years…

One by one, they all left for their different dwellings…
But she stayed behind as she stood there crying…
His heart broke as he witnessed the whole scene…
Remembering how she visited severally, but he never let her in…

Often in the hospital, she’d call for help but he wouldn’t answer…
Not knowing that she was dying of lung cancer…
With all he had he took nothing to the grave…
And now, making up for everything was his crave…

As he beheld his body lying there lifeless…
Everything he lived for now seemed worthless…
True value would have been the lives he affected…
Something he would never regretted…

What then…
Every second counts while we are still living…
So while we can live a life worth remembering.

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