A cane kept wiping me from the past.
I buried my dead in a shallow grave,
the leg is partially out.
It became a demon crying like baby,
hunting me anywhere everywhere.
I became miserable,
Yet I could not tell anyone.
I tried to cast the demon,
but it had a sit with me.
I tried to destroy it,
but the past could not be destroyed.
The script was already written and acted.
Five years after a loud wedding,
no miscarriage for once,
talk less of a bundle of joy.
The demon would cry like a baby,
I will then remember what I did then.
I knew I was supposed to keep it,
but I did not.
I removed it with pills and it went smoothly.
May be it was that that brought this.
“It is certain, it is” a low voice from within
A heat would come from within making me to lose touch with all.
Whenever I calm, I will be drained and stressed.
The doctors never said I had issues.
I saw them as liars.
My conscience plagued me,
reminding me the clear steps I took to do it.
I was daily held captive by that.
In-laws were unmerciful.
As if they knew what I did.
They shifted it all on me.
I bore it without telling anyone that I had enough to battle with.
My man never care, it was me who has issue.
It was a hard moment I wished another woman’s pregnancy would be mine.
But no, that wish was vain.
I got my baby bag destroyed in that day I took the pills.
But the doctor said I was okay.
This man who doesn’t care.
Maybe, maybe not.
Crying for days.
Begging at his feet.
Denying myself of food.
Please follow me .
Let the doctor testify of you.
He said, "I am okay."
He frowned,” I don’t need it”
He abused, “you are the problem”
He mocked. “a man like me”
I bore it all but waited on him crying, pleading.
He followed so I won’t kill myself on his name.
The demon cried, I doubted myself.
I was the issue.
Maybe, maybe not.
Just the first test silence my past forever.
But before that, it had made me paid for my sin.
I only lived by faith and hope.
He got treated and we had bundles of joy.