My Daddy Cried Poem by Ojok Isaac

I faced him, and let it out
The question I've stayed with
Deep in my heart
Burning my veins like hell's flame
I vibrated with an inquisitive
Countenance
Why are we very poor, Dad?
And he stutteringly asked
Are you pretty sure?

Yes, yes Daddy:
We don't have a bike
We eat beans January December
Like we have its plantation
We sleep in a granary
Our house survives
For there is no earthquake
Dad, we're rats of the church
What do we have?

And he looked into my eyes
With frizzy face___and smiled like crying
And said:
We don't have a bike, but we've legs
At least we can walk
We don't have a king size house
But we're safe from night's terrors
We eat beans daily, but we suffer no famine

And he walked on with his words
Before his tears escape from
its pot
He said ''be happy with what we have
And ask God to bless you to have
what we don't''
And he smiled as his tears flow