White birds flock over your grave today,
The sky leaks a rainbow demonstrating the glory you left,
And remains glossed for days from the pot of gold you found,
That’s why the stars have littered themselves up above like confetti was falling,
Formations have been gold plated in the sky since your death,
I look up to find the necklace you left in the sky,
Same since that very Friday you fell back into the Cosmos,
Eaten up by the world
You were taken,
An unexpected robbery of the heart of the home,
My safety was burgled out my hands,
Given to the hands of a Mother who could not differentiate between right and wrong,
Her brain a maze in which she has not found a way out of since a child,
She and the rest of her blood onlookers to the onslaught of children,
Innocent, we had our childhoods and youth stolen without a tongue to even object,
But still, I haggled, trying to draw their attention at 14,
I snitched on her for our weaponry of innocence was not enough,
I have been weeping for the last 10 years,
Head on pillow, hands in the air in prayer for a miracle,
W all bled from our noses, heads and hearts,
Bruises and tears were not enough to keep us away from her,
The mask she wore of Widow was the biggest force of power,
In the name of respect plagiarized across their tongues,
I believe they had temporary blindness for those years,
Its only a year since the glass from their eyes were cleared,
I apologise for everything now,
(This poem is a selfish act of what we lost in you,
A man said recently: That we never look at what you lost, only what we would’ve gained had you remained,
So let me celebrate what you would’ve been:
You would’ve watched your children grow up, your pride and joy celebrated,
Your friendships would’ve grown to the ones you loved at work,
Maybe we would’ve gone on a few more work trips together,
We would’ve watched your love for cooking,
Your precision in everything,
We would’ve continued to celebrate Sundays
Cleaning, Jamaican jerk cooking, reggae and the beach, BBQ’s every summer,
The backgarden would be gushing with flowers,
The house maybe wouldn’t have been empty how it is now, haunted,
You would’ve divorced her, maybe fallen in love again
We would continue to game, maybe even pick up your old hobby of electronics again,
Watching Boxing matches our family activity,
How you made the mosque our holy place, )
Daddy, today you would have been a Man of 51.
You single-handedly made a house into a home,
Happy Birthday