He Loved Poem by Elias Ng'ang'a K.

He loved

He used to come home
Tired, weary and thirsty.
He used to sit on that corner chair
He would look at his child, then look down
He would look at me, then look down.
But he loved us.

With the very little
He earned
He provided.
He used to put on
That old tattered jacket.
Through the working days.
Though he used to smoke
He loved us.

When that officer of the law
Shot him in cold blood
A huge storm befell on us
Loud and thunderous
But he loved us
Indeed he did.