#THE COLOUR OF GIVING
He had gone hungry, he had gone pale
But these were not pangs, these were aches
Life is short, life is sad
Moments are wild but moments are all.
Have you met him, the one with the short limb?
His smiles were short, his smiles were him
His words were few, his words were calm.
The story is told of a lad in pain
His kiths were late for they were frail
Memories he adored now memories no more
Dusks begets dawns and thoughts became real
The table was set, the end was near
But then he would wait, too weak to proceed
And then he would wake, oh it’s just a dream.
The next day was in June
The lad had met Jule
She was full of life, one would wonder why
To her home they went, for you know why
In a split of time, he felt secured
He was in a home he wondered to whom it belonged
The man with the short limb, the man that bore Jule.
Stirring into the cot, he was deep in thought
The little one held his thumb and that was all
Jule was beside him, how tired was she
Words fail him, tears did the speech
He felt different, he felt joy
For in front of him was his baby boy
He struggled to wake up but it was not a dream.
The colour of giving if you ask the lad
It’s not food, hampers or wads
Neither is it red, blue or white
It’s a chance to smile, a chance at life
It’s the love we bare, the love we share.
Have I told you of the man with the short limb
His smiles were words and his words brought joy.
Ashraff is a medical doctor. He loves to read and write. Contact him on his CreativeNaija handle: