FOR CHILDREN WHO BECAME ADULTS.

Father's house is one now painted with silence.

I remember decades ago
When home was still home.
When sister still cloths herself in straps of pants - her favourite,
And me; boxers coloured green matching the flowers of the garden,
Oh! What a moment.
I remember when we paint walls of mom's room
With 1-2-3 and A-B-C
Proclaiming our anxiousness to learning
With mum letting screams escape through her gullets upon seeing them.
I also remember when we build houses with sands
And pebbles piecing through our legs
Yet keeping the pain off mom to escape the scolds - we treated ourselves.
I remember when we doze off on dad's laps
Listening to lullabies as the moon rose in length,
I remember sleeping on the couch to wake on bed.
I remember father's house was one with fun dancing within its four walls.
But I also remember
That this fun was murdered by maturity.
We grew from children to become adults
Unknowingly replacing fun with silence.
I'm now here in Father's house after two decades...
Dad now sits watching the world from the veranda
And mom praying for us from the grave.
The rooms are empty, the walls has become frail from the calmness.
Dad smiled cuddling me once again
And I, felling like caressing his laps once again,
But too weak are they,
And me an adult have I become.

I once again remember those days
When grasshopper was our greatest game.


I am Emmanuel
©2017.