A house once filled with passion and devotion,
But now a marriage vow lies there shattered and broken.
She used to look forward to the clock striking six,
But all she wants now is to be lost in her dreams.
A kiss on the forehead,
To regrets towards the day they ever met.
A night to remember,
Manipulated with cultural belief of gender.
Cries and pleas erase the moments of laughter,
Where’s the happy ever after?
A little girl ran past,
The father on the couch having a drag
Mother comes in with evident fire in her eyes,
A slap was all it took to make her blind.
He walks to the kitchen searching for something to drink,
Alcohol seemed like the best medicine for sleep.
Walking past the wife to admire the moon,
Fall to the ground by the hit of a spoon.
She screams to her daughter to run,
Her little steps were no match for a gun.
“Jump up, Jump down” he screams,
She hits the floor begging for something to eat.
He laughs and spanks her ten times worse,
She found comfort to blood satisfying her thirst.
“Bark like a dog” he challenged,
Cussing she responded igniting her punishment.
His possessiveness was once his best feature,
Too bad with a mask you can’t tell a creature.
He pulls her hair while punching her face,
Darling! Love is just a game!
A black eye night after night,
Him as the winner seemed like a fair fight.
Bruises and cuts like clothing to her skin,
The lashes didn’t stop even after and faint please.
A different woman every now and then,
She answers her son’s question with; “She’s an old friend”
Reality reminds her day after day to run away,
But every time she does; he hunts her like an escaped prey.
Dragging her back to that familiar door,
Like a paper her lifeless body hits the floor.
Blemish and blisters gave a sense of uniqueness,
Her children’s welfare was her only weakness
He comes home with poisonous words in his mouth,
His actions and heavy hand was an unknown cloud.
She turned to his mother seeking help and protection,
Insults she responded adding to her son’s collection.
Strike after strike, slap after slap,
She’s almost dead, I hope you’re glad.
Culture states that you protect your family,
But then I guess hitting your wife makes you manly.
Turning from that house I walked down the neighborhood,
Children scattered around begging for food.
Green trucks I saw everywhere,
Men limited to only one uniform to wear.
Flags hanging showing the owner of the region,
“Defense” they toss like a reasonable reason.
An inhuman feeling covers the air,
Women and children cowering looking scared.
Conflicts turned into blood,
Help me Lord! It’s a killing flood.
Dark skies and bare homes,
The only forms of communication were phones.
They marched in demanding respect,
A man ran to them with reasons came back decked.
Military aircrafts as the sight of the blue sky,
One wrong move; say goodbye and fly high.
White men throwing around black ones,
No time for respect even if you’re a monk.
Innocents trained to be killers,
Diminutive hatred influenced to something bigger.
Blood on the pathways, blood on the wall,
“Don’t care who they are, kill them all!”
BOOM! BANG! The gun sings,
“Close your eyes baby it’s just a trick”
Screams of torture; screams of horror,
Whether you live or die; they have the power.
What’s the purpose you may ask?
A sense of dominance and power; who’d want to pass?
Electrical chairs with offensive mocking,
I wonder when, I’ll see the sun rising.
Talofa lava Samoa. My name is Joycemarielila Toafa, a recent graduate from Samoa College heading into Foundation Year at the National University of Samoa. I am sixteen years of age and I come from the villages of Ululoloa and Vaitele-Fou. It is a great honour and pleasure to be granted the opportunity to share and see the struggles, issues and concerns layering the paths of our everyday lives from my point of view. I hope you enjoy!
Tofa Soifua and God Bless!