His were the eyes of a bastard,
The acquiescing ayes of the unloved.
Dotted with the multitude of surrogates,
Lined with the dead tears of dead promises.
Regaled with the ayes of her mother’s tongue
As she is pillaged by father candidates.
Strengthened by the constant employment
Of both hands to protect
the eyes and ears of his siblings from corruption.
Continuously challenged to be the judge
Between the cost of his mother’s neglect
and the cost of his own nurture.
Longing constantly for his day of emancipation.
Bringing with it an independence
That will end his mother’s whoring,
Establish his identity
And provide the platform for the security of his siblings.
The day his land ceases her whoring to strangers from afar.
The day he ceases to look at other nations for redemption.
The day his kinsmen become his brothers.
Waiting for the day he ceases to be a bastard son,
And starts been an Independent man.
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