THE PLUNGE

He lived long enough to see his toddlers grow, But not long enough did he stay to mold them, So the woman had to rekindle the candle and let it glow, And the illicit that she brewed became the family gem, The first of three was amongst the best in the region, The last was the watchdog to their source of soup, Though in most cases they would fly like a pigeon, Next door was the whistle blower; a cop, The three actually all in one thatched corridor, Rescued us from the Don's savage, Yet he siphons her brew and savings by the river's corridor, Threatening to reign her if she does not stoop to her rage, Her left leg was lost to the fire right leg was chopped in ire, Next kin left her to the bill, So the second offered her kidney in ire, She was ill yet the stinking next kin was a tycoon who was ever ill, Hundred of miles was our journey, To and from the school, Uncleared arrears read aloud without mercy, At both high and primary school, This key kept us going, In this desert of hope, Her sugarless porridge kept us growing, In this neighborhood of food slop, So one day after the national test, The fire was burning as usual, The first and second brought in logs without detest, The last was on duty as usual, Far among the shrubs, The area chief hurried towards our hideout majestically, So an alarm was heard without any flubs, We took to our heels carrying her on our backs alternatively, His boys caught up with us, Alongside them he was present, So he took continuous breath before addressing us, He had brought the good news of my success alongside my present, Who would have believed him? Were it not for her trust, As fugitives we could have surged past him, So we held on her trust, The letter he held was torn from the envelope, For content confirmation, Not to be one of his usual warrants carried without an envelope, So I confirmed the information, It was then that she came from my back, And we headed back home, The scholarship made our dog to bark, Scared me jumped on the back of this pick up and left home.