Conflict Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

To have drank from the Savage breasts.
It distended then placid as I sapped lively
Leaking alike an infant Bitter was the taste
I ceased… Though lame was the motive
I grieved utmost

All that to have enriched, left in remorse
Oh! I suffered. Malnutrition, fever, aches
To drink from the Savage breasts, bitter taste
I ceased… thoughts were of surrendering on life
I grieved utmost.

To have erected, infants overblown and
Poised amid dual crests, discerning the
Forte tiresome. To drink from savage breasts
I crept for a resolution, progression to happen
I ceased… contemplations of an assisting hand
I grieved utmost.