Performing my morning rituals;
In an African home
A duty for every African child;
sweeping the surrounding
as a teenager;
a innocent teenager
My mother sitting outside
preparing for the market
suddenly approached;
approached by shock
seeing a blood;
a blood on my skirt;
mother happy
saying;
“ You are a woman now”
Two nights approached ;
a suitor old ;
enough to be my father
with yams and cassavas;
plantains and goats
Kegs of palm wines
Shocked to hear;
He wants my hand in marriage
Out of foolishness;
my mother accepts
Now sold out;
Sold out to a chief;
My first night;
My worst night
He forced me
From blood to bed
-
Author:
D\'Poetic Princess (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 19th, 2025 15:54
- Category:
- Views: 5
Offline)
Comments2
Old customs some say are bad no days but whether parents or young lovers are wiser is up for debate. A sad poem none the less when someone is forced against their will it is not right.
Yes thank you
Yes thank you
You are most welcome
Wow
Hard hitting and brutal
Don't forget you are a princess
Yes I would not forget
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