By Samantha Kuboni| NUST-ZW
Like a single pregnant woman, I have a need.
The kind that does not stop me from eating or wanting food that is out of season.
Like a drug addict, it does not get any better because the cravings are ulcerating,
cutting through my intestine,
making me bend over in agony.
Just like an abondoned baby with a cold cutting down its tiny spine,
tormented by hunger and yearning for its mother’s love…
I can not stop crying.
Like thirst that cannot can not be quenched
This need that I cannot satisfy is torture.
It is that kind of need.
I yearn for my mother’s love.
I can not shake off the disappointment that I have
to have to face the ills of this world without my rock
Left in the cold by cruel fate,
There are so many things that she could have taught me,
but one cannot choose how their life is to be.
I am saddened and burdened,
that there will be great & bitter moments in my life…
worthy to share, enjoy and lament with her,
unfortunately she is gone.
As i grow older and mature,
the ache for my mother’s love does not disappear…
it keeps knocking.
It is that kind of need…
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