Home > Shortstories:- Poetry > Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis

A baby I was born

In this world I was brought

A bundle of joy I was

Innocent I was named

And given the chance to breathe on my on

Oh the bliss, the joy that I brought.

 

When I was a child

I used to cry

That’s how I demanded attention

That was my form of communication

An imp I used be

For they my wish to fulfill.

 

When I was a child

I used to smile

So as to be adored and liked

By old and young alike

And quiet I would be

While playing with my toys.

 

When I was a child

I would crawl then sit

Take my first steps and grow teeth

Demand milk I would and sweet things

Cry, I cried again

So as to be breastfed.

 

A youngster I grew to

With mouth full of teeth too

Playing futa was the norm

Also swimming at river mpararo

Going hunting with catapults

And returning home dirty too.

 

When I was a youngster

To be great I aspired

To school I would go

But as shy as I was

Completing school I would doubt

But hey, here I am broaden with intelligence no doubt.

 

A teenager I grew to

The so called bloom of youth

Puppy love I experienced

The chocolates and heartbreaks

And the body changes

Why I’m I feeling different?

 

When I was a teenager

Life was pleasurable and fun

All we did was termed ruckus

Though leaders of tomorrow they branded us

Drugs and alcohol we did[1]

You refused to indulge you’re regarded asinine.

 

Now I’m a young adult

Many a talk of life is hard

When I was young life seemed to be so wonderful

A miracle, oh it was beautiful

I’m turning to Jehovah for direction

And better living with vitality and gusto.

 

To adulthood and Grey-headedness

A journey foreseeable that lie ahead

Better find me in bliss hue

Rejoicing with my wife of youth

Offspring all grown with jalopies and residences

My better half and I taking pleasure in the sunset.

 

Dim in vision and alone in our domicile

It’s been hard-living after her demise

But I cherish the life shared

And thank Jah for having created her

Now awaiting the resurrection

Where I’ll hug her again in her ample bosom.

 

In my death divan I await

With a flimsy body and frail heartbeat

For death to drag me to Sheol

A worthwhile course of dependant to Jah I’ve followed

I save my last gulp of air for the last wish to my family

“Stay put, pursue Jehovah’s loving commands and we’ll meet in Paradise”.

***

By,


[1] Personally I haven’t done drugs.

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Categories: Shortstories:- Poetry
  1. November 16, 2011 at 7:02 am

    This is a great site.

  2. November 17, 2011 at 2:03 pm

    Great poem….but this is what really caught my eye Odhis! “Personally I haven’t done drugs.” aiii? for real?

  3. November 18, 2011 at 8:14 pm

    lol found your website when looking for different shoe brands, dont know how that happened!

    • December 1, 2011 at 10:30 am

      Hehe, hope you find the shoes you like… 🙂

  4. December 1, 2011 at 10:21 am

    For real, the so called ‘hard drugs’ I haven’t done. But I’ve indulged in “a bit” of whiskey for the typhoid problem, the malarial drugs for you know what 🙂 and the normal painkillers for whatever pain they are meant to kill, hehe.

  1. December 5, 2011 at 5:15 am

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