Nelson Wetaaka

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Best Poem of Nelson Wetaaka

Fruit Of Sin

I am the child
Of the other woman
Sneered at by my half-siblings
And the main woman
She whispers to the whole village
That my mother is a whore and a witch

A tortured face
Is my mother's make up
but for my brother and I
She banks a smile

The main woman
Says we won't make it in life
Because we are fruits
Of a grave sin
and she sounds like God's messager
every time she re-echoes those words

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