by Kufre Udeme
Go shave off that weed, boy
Keep your jaw as smooth as the bottle of an Eva Wine
You have no licence to rear them so
Go bury the insult in a saloon
Keep it as low as a football field
Or mould an egg shell from it
Young man, don't rub shoulder with your father
While his salt kisses your lips from daybreak to moonlight
Go wash yourself into the child you are.
And know this also, my friend
Breast, for a child, is food not pleasure
And you are no longer a sucking child
So don't look at that girl next door and lick your lips
She's got no milk to fill your hunger
That thirst has grown beyond human milk
Go look for Supreme Bite and Blue Band
Not laps to rest your head
Not anymore while your father's roof is your umbrella.
And hear this too, old child
You are expected not to understand money
So don't go formulate strategies to tap those wads from Daddy's wallet
Put on the shoes and clothes he bought you from the Kiddies' shop
Put them on with a smile - a child is like a beggar, he's got no choice
And when spank for misbehaving, or is it your ears that are yank
Cry it off your heart that instance, cry like a child you are
Let the back of your palms dry your tears without a frown
If you think Mum and Dad shouldn't descend their voices on you
Grab your jeans, your T-shirt and basketball cap, that's the door, leave!
Or stay back and keep mute, no murmuring, no complain, you're a beggar
That's why you need to brush those turfs off your chin
It's an insult to grow beards while in your father's house
Wipe off those moustache and be a child
Or get out into the street and be a man.
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