Clicky

Victor Mochere

Blog

By: Victor Mochere | September 19, 2017

Mama,
I'm sorry I married a church girl,
I saw angel wings beneath that long white dress,
And her voice made me see the gates of Heaven,
I once asked if she would take me there,
She nodded with a holy smile.


Mama,
As I write this I see my death,
She went last year and sent me my ticket,
She called me yes,
Donno if its to Heaven or Hades,
My head is the only fat thing that remains of your son.


Mama,
She was a pretty church girl,
Born and raised in the church,
Her father ruled and watched over her,
He chose her friends and places she went,
When she joined the big school away from home,
She moved away from lock and grace.


She carried her generosity along,
She opened doors in the day and legs at night,
She basked in the mornin...

Category: Poems 

Tags: Mama