I hang on a canopy of thoughts
Water filling my stomach, this I never sought
The thought of paternity, wets my knickers
Is she gonna keep it or spill to the snitches?
The first night found us keen to spill seed in bag
The care loosened and I had trust on her mind
She’d pill herself the morn’ after, she heightened my swag
My care flew outta window, she was a sharp kind
Her menses had missed once, her usual is eleventh
After the next miss, she had called, sounding stressed
Her body had changes, headaches for length
Now, even my small man knows we had messed
Whenever we meet, her predicament takes centre stage
No flatters, we look like freshers, though we graduating
Am torn between reading and skipping this page
While I am, she doesn’t seem worried of the idea of parenting
A dad at twenty four, no job for the flour
All she says can do is braid, she does it for hours
Didn’t want my kid ashamed of my status
Neither my wife begging from her sisters
WHEN PATERNITY BECKONS, RECKON HER YOUR WIFE.
©Alex Buddy Moh
When she says she feels like she will be a Mom in a month or so...
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