A father’s promise, lost in the wind,
Leaving children in shadows, life growing dim.
A mother stands tall, but her heart aches,
With every tear, another piece breaks.
The kids watch the door, waiting for his face,
But all they find is an empty space.
One heart beats for a love now cold,
Left alone, the story untold.
Betrayed by a whisper, a lie, a vow,
All that was shared seems distant now.
The nights grow longer, the days seem gray,
But still, that heart finds strength to stay.
Classrooms empty, voices fall still,
Learners wonder, who will fulfill
The promise of knowledge, of dreams to ignite,
When the hands meant to guide have vanished from sight?
But even in silence, seeds can grow,
In hearts that yearn for what they know.
Hospitals filled, with whispers of pain,
Patients waiting, in hope, in vain.
No medicine comes, no cure to ease,
Yet still they pray for their bodies’ peace.
In sickness, in sorrow, they hold on tight,
Through the longest of days, and darkest of night.
But even in the darkest skies,
A spark of hope begins to rise.
For mothers fight on, and hearts mend slow,
Teachers return, and medicines flow.
Abandoned no more, we rise, we stand,
Together we’ll build, hand in hand.
(Evans Asikoyo, the poet)
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