Born of a Woman
By
Henry Kimathi
I too was born of a man and a woman,
Brought up and nurtured like any human.

Led a life full of soothing serenity,
Exploring the luscious fruits of liberty.

Feeling like the whole world was mine,
Until I discovered I was sitting on a land mine.

A pandemic far greater than the black death,
Was stealthily taking away my breath.

Rashes, boils and nausea did I have,
Many sleepless nights was I to have.

Yet my doom was only beginning,
As I fought against a solitude so maddening.

My source of livelihood and with it my dreams were shattered,
Disowned by family, lived like a bastard.

Such shame became I to chastity,
Thrown to the torments and tortures of an uncaring society.

Branding me a walking plague, earnestly to be avoided,
Treating me like a corpse fit to be discarded.

Though ensnared by the temptations of the world have I been,
Does my demise constitute such unforgivable a sin?

Am I not still born of a man and a woman,
And am I still not human?

Deserving your friendship and unending care,
Knowing that in my dying moments you will be there,

To make me feel like a human,
Born of a man and a woman?


©Copyright, Henry Kimathi, 2000