I used to have a son
In his face I see mine
In his speed I see time
Creating a gap between us
And I feel like rust
That we do not understand each other
Sometimes I wish not to bother
But I can’t ignore
This is my flesh
This was the product of
One rush
Short lived
And I left my son
In his mother’s arms for ever
And I said never
Again to play
To stray
Like a wild dog in heat
I often meet
No I am a biological father
Growing further
Away from knowing, accepting
My worthlessness
And I am punished with endless
Restlessness
My sons and my daughters
To whom I am absent
And they my children
Present
To a man who is not their father
Sometimes I rather
But I wished, I wished
I was more responsible
More available
Some will find their own victory
Others will inherit my misery
Sankofa M F O M Tuzinde
9th December 2014
Inspired by a student
Fathers every child you help bring forth is your responsibility to journey with that they may find their own space in time