Just like babies,we all have hopes, dreams and aspirations. Even our parents can't see in our eyes what we dream of. But surely and eventually as we get closer to achieving our goals in life, they cannot resist but to support us.
I call this poem, Kid cry!!
Now I don’t know what to think, but some day it will all be in ink.
I look without seeing, am I even a human being.
To me, everything exists without meaning.
My language is a cry, but I only calm myself with a smile.
Today I take milk, but tomorrow I will break bones.
Now am wrapped in silk, but soon I will wear clothes.
Hmm! They leave me in pampers, am now among toddlers.
Both the young and old handle me. Love and admiration are all I can see.
Sometimes how hurtful it can be, especially when bathed by the geriatric.
I have no option than to accept their plea. In fact a little smile does the trick.
I am now a boy but frankly, am coy.
I can’t even cook and but now I can eat yolk.
Where is all the tenderness, where is all the care?
How come all this harshness, why all these snare?
My ideas are not significant, as tiny as an ant.
All my vocals create fun, commonly ignored with laughter.
I hate this pan; maybe, I should sound louder.
When shall I be free, I wish I could flee.
Will I ever be like Dad, so big and tall?
He calls my mum ‘baby’ even though she isn’t small.
