I LOVE TO COME HOME LATE

It’s lovely
To come home early
And see your kids running to you
Shouting:
Papa dey dey!
O yo yoo!
Papa dey dey!
O yo yoo!
But now
I love to come home late
When my kids
In night gown
Snoring
Gone far to the fantasy town
In the realm of dreaming
And my wife
With the frown of regreting
For marrying me
Has gone to the bed as well
Pretending
To be snoring
On the dining
The meal she serve me
Is cold
For me to re-on the stove
And warm
To feed my belly
Please, don’t get me wrong
I do not hate my wife
Nor my family
But every time
I come home early
And my son runs to me
Shouting:
Papa dey dey!
O yo yoo!
I see in his eyes
The face of that man with a mustach;
My bachelor neighbour
I’m not sure
That boy is my son
I guess my wife
Is cheating on me.

Samuel C. Enunwa aka samueldpoetry
http://goo.gl/PgIbn

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