Caesar's Child Poem by Martins Akhoeneto

Oh poor mummy, poor soul
Carrier of me in anguish
She was brave but no warrior
But patience gave her all, her goal
On the merry day she ever wish
Although fulfill she was a saviour
A strong propeller of me in transit
Through walls of tunnels beneath
A world unknown even to me
Who had lived there for nine whole month
Except to he, the maker of you and me
That grants every mother her wants
My mummy, full of smiles she gazed
Graciously at the needle happy nurse
I imagine the eye of fury
At the stethoscope man on call
Dressed in whites like a royal horse
I wonder what he was thinking
On the morning to my birth
It was like his conscience was taken
Causing chaos in my natural abode
It was as if I met my death
On an early found path this road
He had earlier called me a name
The previous day and now the same
Complication! He said I was called
On me other insults he poured
But even on the stretcher of pain
I pitied you as ache cloud your vain
As you went through the knife
For the sake of love - my life.