AN AFRICAN CHILD
I'm the lost historical fact
Written in an unknown book
Kept in an ancient library, veiled
by dust & cobwebs, left unread
My mother is the beautiful virgin
with a bankrupted hymen, like the
tainted glory of a crispy white cloth
with red blood splashed all over it
I'm the starved tyke of a pecunious
father, whose pocket is filled with
Unspent cowries crying to be fagged
till they finally decay in his captive
I'm the cracked voice from a frustrated
lip, singing song of sorrow in solitude
like an homeless orphan left alone to be
bruised & smashed by life, yet unbroken.
©® Jamiu Ahmed
Comments
Post a Comment