Mother! Your love is in my head
I wish I could use passion instead
You are precious than pearls in the hand
And the neck of queen of England
You are the only gold crested in diamond
Your love is in my head
And I can’t forget the days we fed
And nights we slept so unfed
And how well we were treated
When stomarch ache or ache in the head
Plus malaria, the wicked malady pinned us to the bed.
And mother! Your love is in my head
Your love is now stronger in my head
For when you deprived me of your breast fed
I thought you were so wicked
Not knowing you wanted
Me to grow and understand
The joy of sucking ladies breast.
Samuel C. Enunwa Oct. 5, 2009.