Half of a yellowish dish
by Sarah Emetuche
Halfway down this soup I stare at this half empty plate
Sometimes last year my hair was half plait
because my mother had a scuffle with the stylist
Today I’m not at the bottom
I’m not at the top
Still I am never where I want to be
I need to finish this soup
because this is the same spot
I always pause
to wonder why our life has been half cooked
I always have all sorts of funny thoughts that run around my head
I think it is because my hair was once half plait
and all this thought isn’t leading me anywhere
but somewhere near how to make my bowl full again
I want to ask you,
do you have same thought like me too
to make our lives whole?
***
