Sonder Poem by Farook Ajose

Sonder. I sit here and wonder how life would be if I were another. Beside the statue, I spot two ladies. On the bench, sits a man in his eighties. Of the former, one's tummy seems round. I wonder how life feels when you're expecting babies.

Is she married? Is that her friend? I'm getting dreary as I think about her end. For her child, is whom to care? The thought of this, I cannot bear.

Will it be a girl and not a boy? Will she like to dress Barbie dolls? Or will she rather play with toys? If so, who am I to judge? Her gender matters less when it's her choice.

On the bench, the old man smiles. Have I thought aloud or can he read minds? He stands up and gestures his hand. Both ladies rush to help him out.

Oh, they must be his daughters. One looks bigger but none is taller. They hurry their feet and the distance gets shorter. Then I wonder who is older.
The old man has a wrinkled face. Atop him, sits a hat that's grey. How has he lived this long, is it by grace? I marvel at his hair; it was the purest of grey shades.

They almost walk past me when before his aging voice speaks. "Hello young man, listen to me! A little piece of advice, this may seem." I bring my ears closer, anticipating wisdom of his. He says, "There are many hats, but there's a reason this suits me."