It wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t cope,
I did my best, her health was pressed,
She failed to see, the beauty in three,
She opened that door, this family she left,
Our children were young, her feelings grew cold.
It was a test, I told myself,
To raise her kids, alone and poor,
No time for petty, no time for wishes,
I had to work, two feed them well,
I learned to cook, and sew and more.
The boys were tough, at times too rough,
They cried for mum, but learned to love,
They grew up quicker, by ten their men,
Without the norm, they stood by me,
They cherish my stay, surrending their youth.
My angel was tougher, a daughter so needy,
She hungered for mum, afraid of fun,
Bullied at school, she stuck to books,
Escaping the norm, learning to belong,
I gave her my all, attentions and hugs.
Many years past, two jobs my curse,
Higher they rose, brighter they shone,
Glory within, tears down my chin,
Burning with hate, given this fate,
Wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t their mum.
A soldier is born, a second commands,
At college they ruled, giving life a chance,
A father so proud, his daughter a nurse,
The children aged three, now adults at last,
I sit down to reflect, still tearful within.
Thank you my love, a mum you still are,
You gave us a gift, three angels of God,
The stresses of motherhood, made you depart,
I dare not reveal it, for these children are my heart,
In silence I suffered, in our daughter you stayed.
By Julius Fa