Whose And Where Are They From Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

I should have asked you your name,
I should have talked to you of the past,
For then you were mean, now you are smiling,
Looking for food at the edge of my yard,
I should have known you would come,
For you knew not how to live,
For the insults said it all,
That in you was just a shell.

I should have known you would pack,
Your children and throw them on my door,
Leave them there for me to nurse,
When I do not know where you got them,
Or even with whom you nestled them.
For your breasts still stood firm,
Like thornsof the acacia tree.

I should have known you would starve,
For you worked and never saved,
Spending all the time laughing,
Around the yard at your home,
As if to grow and be old there,
When you would shrivel to nothing,
And walk towards the sunset empty handed.

I should have known you would not love,
For hatred was always in your words,
What you wanted you insulted,
For you were jealous of all,
Who tried to do something with themselves.

I should have known you would call me a tourist,
When you have packed away my boxes,
And jumped up to a chair not yours,
Pretending to be me without wings,
For you flew everywhere like a bird,
On borrowed wings a wild sahara.

I should have known you would hunt,
Anything with my name rename,
Create yourself as me in wings glued,
To your back like a false doll the cob,
Wearing arms as sticks that stick out,
The girl in youplaying the game.

Now you wonder feisty as powerful,
Telling everyone you are a hard worker,
When your children lie untended,
In a veld with backs uncovered,
Your mother being gone for good,
You go there to get money,
As if from a bank teller,
When you ran away from spending,
Even a cent when they were young.

Your children need their father,
You shut them up like thugs,
When they ask a genuine question,
Whose and where are we from,
You look at the with fear,
Which you turn into fire,
To frighten them forever,
Yet their questions will remain,
Whose and where are they from.