The Slow Walker Poem by Bernard Onoja

What are my sins that i am punished for? Early in life my sorrows begin, different from all my kith and kin. A cross to carry throughout life.

Had my parents been knowledgeable, my lot would have been different. Instead, as the wreckage of a motor crash, disabled i am with flaccid and feeble limbs.

Strong willed but constrained by my condition,
I remain an onlooker, missing every piece of action. My wobbling gait, a testimony of my condition.

I forget today but am reminded tomorrow, my ugly condition from my period of innocence could have been prevented by vaccination. Yet made worse by ignorance, myths and doubts.