My bed!

Please my tattered bed
I never meant to complain but I did
Please understand I was a little mad
Incensed by the creaks you made

Mother sought to mend you once
But she forgot in the due course
Maina my brother tried once
But his knowledge was not expanse

Look now the sack is torn
The banana stuffing leaves are flown
Leaving an empty dry sack like bone
That aches my back after lying on

The springs that used to hold me
Are now metal shreds, like broom
That sweeps the floor with creaks and strum
Arching lines on the floor of the room

That is why I am mad!

© GIDRAF MWANGI