I would like to imagine him
Not too short nor tall
Playfully funny in discipline
Handsomely lovely in friendship
Warm and reassuring in hugs
Soldiery and feared in protectiveness
Like God’s shield
II
I’d like to imagine him there
By her side
Holding hands and occasionally talking to the invisible me
Giving me massages
With smiles of anticipation for my long visit
III
But no
That was not to be
I feel the fears that shook my being
When bullies stood with their canes so sharp
I feel the hurts of words so sharp
Piercing my heart like unsterilised arrows
Because of his absence
I feel the maltreatment scarring my soul
And the assaulters’ comfortability knowing I had none to protect
I feel the burden
On these little shoulders
Burdens of many who needed many
Keepers keep well
What rightly, they, belong
I belonged to none
So wings never reached to shed
I still imagine, I imagine
How he was even in abandonment
Regretful or relieved?
It hurts that my mind’s eye has no picture
No picture of the man who has tortured and haunted all these years:
My father
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015
Mum Cee 