A woman of Roseau By Delroy Nesta Williams Im sorry but theres nothing innocent About a woman walking through Roseaus streets at 2:00am With the confidence of sanitary napkins in her steps Because her bank account is just a little more swollen than the belly of her teenage daughter Whos about to make her a grandmother She got paid for that transaction And even got a little extra To spread her own legs Its bad enough she sold her child Now shes also riding shotgun at the molesters side Tomorrow she can afford to cook all her children Sunday lunch And even have extra to cover supper. As her high heels hit the pavement Rhythmic like a Triple Kay drum set You realize theres another story behind her swinging assets One of a woman fooled by men that she loved As one by one they promised her the world But one by one, the left... Leaving only remnants of their presence A gift of some sorts that continues to give back Because now instead of one generation Her tiny, almost broken down shack Houses children, grandchildren and even boyfriends You look into her eyes and you see a lifetime of hurt and pain A woman stained like the clothes of a farmer who toils the soil planting bananas and plantain But the cargo boats are long gone And her fruits are still on the port Bathing in the hot, dry sun A consignment of rejects Dropouts of schools and fired from jobs Because theyve got no qualifications So this woman has the Earth and Mars to shoulder And I can only guess how she makes it from one day to another But her midnight walk only gives us a clue As to why this woman doesnt sleep when we do Why she plies her trade when the owls howls And only the barking dogs and crowing cocks summon the sunrise If you look closely you will see the fear in her eyes Because her offspring may just pick up her calling Theyre already mimicking her tendencies Being fooled by the first dude who speaks of love Its a vicious cycle that wont be stopped Because a child cant raise a child to be a woman That mathematics doesnt add up So she just adapts And the children just adopt Because to her it has become second nature But now its 3:00am And shes home But she cant go to bed Shes got so much things running through her head Got to cook, clean and basically do everything Be the man, woman and sometimes even the child A household running wild And its so sad to know That this shit is happening right next door! you can find more of my poems and short stories (usually with a Caribbean theme... i am from the Caribbean island of Dominica) on my page: feel free to like my page as well
Posted on: Thu, 03 Jul 2014 22:50:44 +0000
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