He Was Splashed Poem by mariechantal tuyisabe

Before even he got splashed,
Our father had forbiden him from
All his fishing movement
He had made it clear
Like one with continuous fear
That his enemies might sink him in
That long-grassed river where
Hipoppotamers and crocodiles
Hunt and swimed daily
Dangerous was the river
He could not surrender, however
Because he always said that
Life without fishing
Was like putting
Water in a holed-jug.
Also, he did like the way
Fishes wiggled in the waters
He would say.

One glare hot summer,
One day in that summer,
Splashed, my brother was
For he came home late-
Around eight PM,
And our father had been
Hunting him all day-long
The small yellow-spotted fishes,
Our father threw-in the air
Like one who wasn't a dear
Next, his arm, he grabed and
Led him in the room that
He had arranged so well and
Put a pink pants-belt.

After, the laughter I could hear
So well I could hear,
And our mother's too, I could hear
But, hers was a mear one
That sounded like one'spity
Next morning after-while I swept the floor,
Shoked, I was
Seeing white milk that spotted the floor
And designs that snaked my brother,
Made my heart leap with joy
And that'show I knew the truth that
He was really splashed.