Parcelled gifts of smiles
Hurts grilled like well scented chicken
Horrid reminders posing as beautiful songs
She lives the dream of horror

Everyone is nice to Dzifa
They politely tell her of their prayers for her
They subtly direct her to some facility or another
They jokingly ask her
…when she will bless the world with a child’s cry
She wonders why such pleasantness are acting daggers
…to so hurt her

Her husband is as sweet as honey
Never bothering to bring it up
…her inability to conceive
And shutting her down whenever she brings it up
Making the matter a sharp rolling stone
In her belly’s pit
Rendering her bed a discomfort
And making lovemaking a horrific chore

Her in-laws act all sweet
Telling her God’s time is the best
With forced smiles and stiff necks
As they play with other kids in her presence
…occasionally looking at her in awkwardness
Sending cold chills down her spine
And forcing nervous bubbles in her stomach

Her friends keep inviting her to naming ceremonies
With prophesies for her in the coming year
As some pregnant others cuddle their tummies
Anytime their eyes meet hers
Making her feel all eyes have seen her –
The only desert womb
And so she walks on needles

She wishes someone will slap her
…so she can cry
She wishes someone will beat her up, so she can weep
She wishes someone will push her
…so she can shout
She wishes someone will physically kill her
So she can die a death seen by all
None of that happens
So she lives like a walking dead in the coffin of society
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 18, 2020

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

6 replies on “PLIGHT OF THE BARREN 3”

This sounds very pesonal, this is the second poem like this in a week or so. I pray that you are not going thru this and if so please focus on finding your mental health. It’s hard not to fall for other’s pressure, we all feel it but we can feel comfortable with who we are and tell the rest to fuck off. Pardon my French as they as. 🙂

Liked by 2 people

You’re just wonderful, Mum Cee. I love the ironies clothing your piece, a true mirror of society’s attitude towards those plagued in plights.

Your Quill Cries Well.

Liked by 2 people

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