Remorse Of A Father. Poem by Mutsawashe Museredza

l thought he was not my son.
The mother seem like she was
the shrewd type.

l couldn`t believe it when she told
me, she was carrying my baby, being
the first. l was confused and felt a victim
of a clever and fast girl. The girl had big
brothers, backing her.

My own mother, not happy about this, she
Instilled hatred of my own son in me. Having
always said l was docile.

He is grown now, l always see myself in him.
He is my son, my soul. He is close to be a father but
in my subconcious, l grew saying he is not mine.

Intelligent, clever, promising and loving. Different in
ability to the ones l call mine. How will l be forgiven?
how do l reconcile, l have kept it in secrecy and having
been repented to Christ. l am now a saint but it is still
indelible and conscripted in me.

Mr Mutsa(December 2017)