My absent father...

What audacity have you to call me your son?
What nerve have you to list me as your “another” one?
What? ….Okay ….. Excuse the pun!
But what guts have you to ask about my well being?
After 25 years, yes 25, you really want to bring me under your wing.
But I am still the son of that once pregnant woman that always knelt begging you as if you were some king.

That same woman that you despised and told “it was just a fling”
That moronic teenage boy that once visited your home and to whom you referred to as “a dirty thing”
Hell yes, now that you always see me on T.V ,that I am a star ,that I can sing
You came forth to claim to be my father with great certainty!!
But are you not the one that initially denied paternity?
Back in the day, in your hey days, whilst working in the civil engineering fraternity?
Are you not?? Are you not??

You ditched my then pregnant mom and headed south
Her life got so pathetic. She had to feed from hand to mouth
I was born to dire poverty. Yet you least cared.
Baby foods, baby milk. I never was fed.
At least sugarless porridge was at my disposal, instead
Grant money never was enough to sustain life
Extreme poverty, extreme hunger! Sleeping on empty bellies was so rife
Though living on handouts, mum always kept my hopes alive
With no school uniform, I was very brilliant. I was counted among the elite batch
Comforming to orthodox, I was an active choir member of our church
Though you were never there, I grew up the boldest!
You should have at least embraced me when I won in a talent search singing contest
When I had record labels vying for my signature
When I first wore quality clothing of fine texture
When I dumped my rags for designer labels like Daniel Hetcher.

My mother raised a hustler. I so got used to your absence
Bygones are bygones. I have accepted you back, but see no essence!
Once beaten twice shy. From you I suspect fortune hunting. I suspect pretence.
Rumour has it that my half brothers and sisters are more than useless.
They do not fend for you but should I care any less?
I am grateful for having such a mother. For she is God given
I even bought her a car. She is chauffeur driven!
Plus, we are no more squatters. We moved out to the suburbs
Grew up eating garbage, nowadays we are choosy, sometimes we eat kebabs.
They say friends are few when days are dark.
But are dads also that few when days are that dark?
My biological father, I guess you were a tad too late.
For real, I still agonize over my fate!!

By Dabaluthethwa Tfwala (South Africa)

picture source: blackartdepot.com