FEEL LIKE HE DID

I am tired of the green grains of cereal you offer me in take away packs

I’m fed up with the CL of sugary liquids you give me

No offense but I need more than that

I’m tired of chasing after you in highways being offered nothing but chicken change that holds no trust of guarantee what my next second might be

I’m a child with no choice so I do as told

I’m tired of holding your loins and hands because mommy said I must bring back something tangible else I’m as useless as a dead finger battery

I’ve become nothing but a silent noise

A product of a broken home, a one night stand, deadly war, some call me refugee

I’m a candle in the wind

And my light is slowly dimming

My wax is almost burnt away

I’m a typical definition of “Anywhere belle face”

I gaze at myself unsure of what the grey future carries for me

I bare nothing but a stinking breathe

Which strives to reassure me that the sun shines after the heavy downfall of rain

I need help

I might not be a product of your sperm cells and fertile wombs

I might be Asian, Liberian, Egyptian, Cameroonian or Lebanese

But if you have the love of HIM in your heart then these don’t really matter

For we are both bones wrapped in sinful skin

So when next I approach you

With a fading heart and sun poked eyes

When next my scaly fingers lay grip on the hem of your garment,

A child with an issue not of blood but of the uncertainty of a better life

Do not be too rigid to feel like HE did

Stare right into them

And let me take you on a bumpy ride to the solitude I face daily

See the silent screams of a young child who needs more than squeezed mints and party rice

Who knows not the 26 Alphabets and ordinary numbers

Who knows not the experience of a balanced diet

Who knows no bedtime stories and lullabies deserving of his/her age

Who knows nothing like a siesta neither the joy that comes with the emergence of Nepa because even if he/she did what was the use_­­?

They was no TV to feed eyes on anyway

Who needs love undiluted just like that which HE gave you on the cross

See that my soul is nothing but a river of tears waiting to be dried by the kerchief of a Good Samaritan

 You might not be the seat that turns away my distress

But you might be the first step to my revolution

FEEL