by Peculiar Ediomo-Abasi
Published on: Jun 17, 2008
Type: Poetry

Bobby few years back was seven
and the love for me and his mum was even.
Life was cute and comfortable,
just as Bobby was fine and reliable.

Fun came to town one day
and frustration came to stay.
With friends I began drinking
and with them I started smoking.

Bobby still was reliable
but definitely not comfortable
with the trauma I caused his mum
as I always came back to beat his mum.

Deprived of my love and care,
he got all out to have his share
of the kind of live I was living
and even told us he was leaving.

Bobby that day kissed his mum and left,
but earlier hugged her and both wept.
This memory haunts me with much pain
and every day I hope to see Bobby again.

« return.