In keeping their headAbove water
The wise drawA
quick lesson
From others’ blunde
While the fool
With a deaf eye
To many a wrong turn
Their life squander!
One sad Saturday morning
Coming out of
A nearby hut of mud
A rose bud
Used to mix
withHigh schoolStudents
’ flood.On the streetWith
a bowHer I used to greet.
Drawing close
And casting
anAffectionate
glanceI used to say
“Hi”Often I neverFailed to utter“Lovely!” “Cute one!” …
In her heart a cherishedCorner to buy
.Though she was shy
Her angelic faceSmiles
used to aurify.
When she comes of ageI
was sure to propose
to herThough age gap
couldPut us asunder
“Does that she too wonder?”
I still ponder.
One sad Saturday
morningA funeral
processionRound
the hutDrew my attention.
To her parents & siblingsAnd,
of course,
To my hidden grief
She opted to be brief
You seeShe could not tolerate
“Detained!” on herGrade
10 certificate.
VexedShe found it
hardTo reflectA
pitch dark nightWill
certainlyCedes
place toA broad day light.
Had she managed
thatDark moment to outgrow,
She could haveLong forgotten her sorrow.
Two decades
laterwhenever I passBy that place
I see her younger brother
With sadness stamped face!
“Suicide why?”
Is it not cruelInflicting
A harrowing painOn
those weWill be survived by
!Is it not selfishTaking
our lifeIn to our handsOur
corporeal existenceTo finish?
If we share our sorrow
Moral propFrom
our confidants
We could borrow
This wayWhat is unbearable
todayWe may forget tomorrow.
Is it not better
takingThe bull
by the horn,Circumventing
challengesTo stand shoulder high
While many are born?
BY ALEM HAILU G/KRISTOS
THE ETHIOPIAN HERALD WEDNESDAY 5 JUNE 2024
