Dear son of my Countryman Son of my many fathers I write to you brother who fights in the army
My prayers for your safety awaken me every morning
You who has taken that rifle to fight our enemy
And courageously stand guard to protect our Sovereignty, our borders and our integrity
I wanted to tell you how proud I’m of your parents To which it would be a lie.
A terrible lie
You see, son of my many fathers’
I knew your father once.
A brief interlude
But enough to spur events that would shape Two decades, going three of my life.
Yes, your father, the one whom you worship The one whose mantle, love, leadership brightened your horizon
Simultaneously tore my world and darkened my universe.
He, who gave your sister the life so charming, That she holds that scalpel with pride to heal,
He that mentored your brother to take that legal pen to protect the law.
Yes him, proud papa stole my youth in one brief interlude.
Now, as I celebrate my threescore, I hardly cry nomore
For my tears have turned to sighs, of what pride I did know
Now your sister celebrates, as I cringe before men
In him, the head, his big tummy of recognition and status,
Squeezed and pinned me on the ground with all his military might and experience
Yes the one who shaped the lawyer in my ‘other’ sibling took my right to scream that fateful day
With a knife on my throat, he thrust his bulk and ushered me to an abyss
Through him, I knew a beast had a fatherly form.
That smile of recognition could be a welcome to your special hell.
But alas, hello truly has ‘hell’ in it.
Now as you prepare to commence your union with your rib,
With lifes’ bounty, I bless you
May his second generation never meet one like him
For your daughter my dear brother may find one like him.
And in one swift interlude, her world may be ripped apart.
And find her innocence nolonger celebrated and youth tolerated.
Seeking numbness in ills ways and all trust alienated.
Dear son of my Countryman Son of my many fathers.
