We fall in love, we marry and we change
Slender as a reed,
Her perfume, mild and sweet.
Her flawless skin like burnished silk,
Her tilted lips as red as rose,
Her tiny waist, twisting and twirling,
While tiny feet danced to the beat.
The me I knew liked lovely things,
The me I knew looked lovely too,
And never a frown, did mar her brow.
Then came you dear Sir,
With words as sweet as honey.
You and a thousand others.
Some brought flowers,
Others brought chocolates,
Some even brought snails,
For they knew I love them so.
You Sir, you brought me nothing.
The me I knew, it was you she chose,
For the me I knew,
She loved you so.
Ten years have passed, four babies have come,
The me I knew is gone.
This me you see,
Is a me I do not know.
With beads of sweat on that weary brow,
Whitlow darkening those once pretty nails.
She washes from dawn till dusk,
With still a heap to wash.
Those shrieks and screams,
They fill her days,
Those weary nights,
She cools heated brows,
But strong she is,
She bears it all,
With a gentle smile for her little four.
Her hair in strands,
Her breasts are flabby and loose.
That tiny waist, now wrapped in fat,
She only wants to sleep.
Her days are filled with how,
To make that money last a month,
When it barely lasts a meal.
How she manages you Sir, you do not know.
She gives you porridge, you leave without tasting,
You are used to cakes and tea.
Dear Sir you,
Leave at dawn and come at dusk,
She prays for you and waits for you;
You call her a nagging witch.
That girl you see, the pretty one,
She’s the me I used to know.
This me you scorn, this tired me,
She is the me I do not know.
(This Poem was published in the Weekly Ghanaian Mirror in 2016)