MY SMILES; MY LITTLE JOYS

The theme came in,
Something about little joys.
“What’s to write?”
I waited two weeks in hopes that I’ll find it.
 
And now I write, still not much to focus on.
The few thoughts in my head make me want to cry with bliss.
I’m a cry baby, yes, but this time it’s more than just that,
It’s about how far I’ve come from so little.
 
The first thought in my head; my mum.
Oh, she’s not a little joy,
I made sure she knew that on mother’s day.
She’s a bundle of joy that has taught me to appreciate everything.
 
To appreciate her smile on a beautiful morning,
And appreciate that I can still greet her good morning.
To appreciate her legendary Sunday Jollof rice,
And appreciate the knowledge of it that she has passed.
 
Then there’s the thought of my dad;
No, he’s more than even the biggest joy,
I made sure he knew that on Christmas day.
I reminded him of one thing he did for which I’ll love him forever.  
 
I reminded him of that toy he bought me one time during Christmas;
Because even though we didn’t have much, I deserved an amazing Christmas.  
For that toy, I’ll forever be grateful.
I’ll remember the sound it made, and remember the man who always made sacrifices.
 
Then I think of my siblings. . .
All of us away from each other now,  
Moving onto the next phases of our lives,  
But still closely knitted in love.  
 
I think of the time they always made fun of me and how I’ll cry;
And the time my brother would frustrate me with his air kisses.  
And then I think of times he’s been my strength,  
And times when my sisters were the only ones I could run to.  
 
And then I think of me, little me.  
The one that wouldn’t exist if one didn’t go.  
But yet, the one that always seems to question her existence.  
The one who knows what she’s capable of, but is so scared of trying.  
 
I think of how I’ve grown from my failures,  
And the overwhelming feeling of failing again.
And then I think of my beautiful smile with my crooked teeth,
And again there’s flashes of all the times I’ve smiled and with whom.
 
Whether or not, they are still in my life,
These people make up my little joys —and maybe my sadness.
And thankfully, there’s the ones that would always be a constant,
The ones that even though are constant, would still increase.
 
The ones who will protect me,
And always make me smile.
The ones who I can always run to,
And who would re-ignite my little joys
When life wants to take them from me.
 
—Onwumah Ozed
©2021