Was Father Really Drunk

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Was father really drunk?

An ominous wind followed him,
His footsteps shakes like the voice of an angry stammerer.
His throat, always drenched even In his dreams.
He murmured loudly to himself like an unpaid laborer.
Go inside!  Mother would say
Hurry! Hurry!! take your sisters away!
He came banging at the door after a long day.
Oh! My poor father!
My thoughts runs wild from the cluster of smokes that waters my eyes
Oh! I wished they were just tears.
Mother's smoke,
Emptied from hard work
Blowing firewoods in order to get On with the clock
Father's from “weedish” flares
Rolled and gripped in between his years
Poor woman
Lying before her unending
Faced everyday with unyielding fears!
Her once sought love,
Snatcher of her youth,
Element that made her a woman.
Now in love with his liquor!
Mogbe!! Baba kola! Always drinks  to stupor!
Balogun David {drunk poet}
© 2017

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