I SAW HIM


I saw him….playing silly games,
and i was six.
Sometimes he wanted to play father,
when i was mother.
Or hold the rope,
and let me skip.
Other times he sat with others,
and made fun of me.
I cried and hid behind curtains,
and hems of mother’s skirts,
Because my emotions,
too young to comprehend.
Was he friend or fiend?

I saw him again.
And i was thirteen,
Almost a woman.
And it was showing.
When the tiny mounds appeared,
and my chest began to hurt.
He teased me again.
Yet he too had bumps on his face,
and a croak for a voice.

We parted ways four more years.
I was away where they wore matching clothes.
And slept in metal squeaking beds.
And he never appeared there.
I never thought of him.
Only saw him in books.
And read about the things he could do.
Like make babies grow in my tummy,
love me like his only,
yet hurt me like his enemy.

Then one day he held me in his arms.
When the four years were gone.
And i was in another institution.
Gently like the last raw egg, then squeezed harder.
Till i could take it no more.
Left me raw.
And i freed myself from his hold.

Now i am done with institutions.
I wake up in the morning,
jewelled and made up….adorned.
And leave to make money….my own.
He still comes and goes.
Squeezes me a little more till i cringe.
And i fear he might break me.
There are no more tears to shed here.
I am a woman…..grown.
No institutions.
No hem of mother’s skirts.
So before i break gradually,
in his arms. Fiercely.
Before my heart slams shut.
I will let him go along.

©Ado Yiembo.

Copy and pass ”I SAW HIMaround to your hearts content but always post my copyright notice above correctly both as courtesy and as a legal necessity to protect any writer. Thank

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