My Son Poem by Thomas Gwanzura

My son
I wish you could walk me home one day
I promise will get home in time for supper
Mum would have prepared our favorite stew
You know its nicer than the view of the beautiful morning dew
My son walk me home one day

My son
I lay in a prison cell
All I feel are four corners
Its darkness
I cannot see myself
There is no room for light
Maybe I committed murder
That I am this isolated
Its feeling feels like hell
My son rescue me

My son
The day I went and never came back
I got arrested and taken to court
Judges confident in their cloaks
Pronounced my sentence
Before dawn, I was hidden in remand
Pending transportation
To my own isolated cell
My son, it was not my fault
Its the unfairness of life

My son
I feel lonely
Its now a decade or two
Locked up and weak to escape
I am like a sheep without its wool
In the blistering cold
Sometimes I shiver
Sometimes I am scared
But am alone
What else could be in my cell
My son I am so lonely

Its painful my son
There are no voices you hear
Its only the bites of ants you bear
Feeding on my dying body
As the soul gave up already
They have become my friends
Even anthills
They have built in my cell
How can I escape my son
This pain and grief

By Thomas Gwanzura