“Is it worth it?”

“Is it worth it?”

I stifle a yawn

My eyes red as fresh blood from a healthy cow’s cervix

Veins protruding from my visage

All that remains of my once stunning physiognomy is a few specks of beauty

And I ask myself,”’is it worth it?”

I was hurt

Before that I was sad

And even before that I was in denial

But now all that is in me is ire; choler at the world; Anger at her inhabitants

And I ask the world “was it worth it?”

My family has abandoned me; claiming I pushed them away

Left me to the whims of the earth and the cruel grace of fate

They were caring a first, understanding

But now they are cold and distant, wishing me the best while at the same time preparing for the worst

And I ask them, “Is it worth it?”

I look at her angelic face staring at me from the wall

She is smiling; grinning at me!

My countenance drops its look of anger

It is replaced by the sharpest of pains; I give her my most earnest and imploring look

And I ask her picture on the wall “is it worth it?”

We had plans; we had dreams; we had visions together

I still remember her face that cold July morning

Joyfully telling me, “Joe, you gonna be a daddy!’‘

And all that remains of that and other plans we had together is disillusionment and a question

 “Is it worth it?”

I look at the car cars lying on the table

Gathering dust and struggling with rust

My wedding present to her

The car that had taken away her life and my only reason for living

And I ask it “is it worth it?”

I bear a grudge against every body

Why are they so happy?

Why do they have to flaunt their happiness to me?

Why do they have everything while I don’t?

And I ask death,” was it worth it?”

Then I suddenly cannot bear it anymore

I take a look at the stuffy room

It stubbornly stares back

Everything everywhere but not where they are supposed to be

And I ask myself,”‘ is it worth it?”

I look out of the window and into their burgeoning vegetation beyond

The very green grass, the shrubs mushrooming from where they buried her

And I aint mad at them anymore; or at her; or at the world

I pick a broom; make a mental note to pay the beauty parlor; the market; the supermarket a visit

And I know the answer now, it wasn’t worth it

Robert Aseda

Kenyatta University

(My poems)