MAVERICK

Sticks and stones may break my bones but your words would never break but make me

Brick by brick I'll build my mount of awakening

Piece by piece I'll put back the crumbles of my heart

Stroke after stroke I'd run my brush on the white translucent paper directed and guided by my cravings and yearnings

No no... No rules this time

Not that I'd adhere to any

I'm tired of trying to walk in your shoes I make no progress

Even the soil seems mad at me look how red it is

The Sky has turned grey again and now it's bleeding profusely, giving the red soil this beautiful slick glow
I know abandoning these shoes won't make you happy but every step I take in them is always a mistake to you and there's no happiness in that

One by one I move barefooted

My feet, red soil coated

Perhaps the soil bleeds from unfortunate mishaps of society

The nocturnal iniquities that go on amongst the same people who made the rules and deities

Growing up they teach you to always tell the truth and it's what set you free but sometimes it seems like it's what's get you in trouble
Seeing the big guns eat the whole cake and feed the masses the crumbles

Haha... Society

Round and round we go in circles giving still born lessons

You'd see a person driven to take his own life all next thing you'd hear is a stirring monument put up by those who were sole contributors to this detriment

I'm surrounded by masks

Each day one wakes up, he picks up which grotesque disguise he'll need for the day's work
Some days I feel the love and happiness amongst these folks but other days It's like everybody's acting or are on some role playing jumbo
They'd keep up the pretense and the only thing holding me from calling this a film is owed to the fact that there's no camera

I see mothers lose their kids in their ability to judge and scowl at the activity of every other kid except theirs
Or the ones who torture them with words slick enough to bring down their walls of self confidence and tear apart their pride
Or those who never even wanted to be mothers in the first place so they take their frustration out on the poor youngling
I've seen kids smoke their lungs out but the irony lies with those fighting for air and life

I've seen best friends become strangers

Heroes become statuette

Events become memories

The ego that comes before a fall

And life, an opaque figment of disillusion

Sweetheart Grades don't define my intellect

Darling Rumors don't determine my personality

And the world doesn't rule me

It is said that a farmers son would always think his father's farm is the biggest especially if it is all he knows until the day he ventures out one day and see for himself that he's been living a lie

Here I am..done with my painting
Wondering what my son would think of me because he's MAVERICK

THE CALL FROM THRALLDOM

oouuu hope has failed me

Now I know what Joseph felt when he was sold by his brothers for a few coins

I set out far away from home to look for pastures that are more green

Looking at these chains made me realize the astute representative irony unforeseen

To leave home to break free from poverty

Only to be driven back to the severity of something worse

I'm surrounded by people of my own skin and ancestral blood

All from black nations far and abroad

Ohh whatever happened to the time of old to let it resurface again

I thought we were over and through with this madness

Sigh

I cannot deny

my heart this forlornness

The pain from within when I see my brothers whipped

Or see my sisters raped and molested

Being bargained over and over again like I was someone's property

Greed being their deity

The grief that binds me every time I see another dead body

I thought; gone are the days when men of our own skin exchanged us for tobacco and vanity

Gone are the days when we were bought like animals and forced to work against our will

I've been taught there were two types of freedom

Freedom from and

Freedom to
But its seems we've been stripped of both

I'm not sure what the future looks like for me anymore so note;

The dawn of each day seems to be my last

I do miss home

The appealing warmth of my mothers embrace

And the soft glow in my daughters eyes

Slowly a voice in my head recites;

Come on now pretend you're seeds

Arms up in the air just like trees

Don't be shy sprout out your leaves

History has made its mark

But a dreadful one is being repeated

Like an Iroko stand high and tall

Let birds come and nest in you

Let the cuckoos call out to your brothers and sisters home and abroad for help

Let the sunlight through you gleam

Hope is not as lost as it seems

Let the wind carry our message
If you look well enough in this dying society you'd find some good within.

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I want my childhood back

I want to be a happy girl again
I want to play with my peers
I want to play in the rain
Bathe in my naivety and innocence
I want to help my mother in the kitchen
Listen to her tell tales of old
I want to be able to sit on my father’s lap
And watch him tell stories of a world unforeseen
But you can’t give that back to me now
Can you?

I want to be able to look at myself when I stare in the mirror
I want to be able to dream again
Maybe to be the next president or win a Pulitzer Prize
I want to be able to speak up for myself when I should
But the weight of the world on my shoulders is so heavy and shrew
I want to be able to go to school and take notes
But shame won’t let me because the world already knows
I want to spend time with my friends but sadly isolation has become my only companion
Even laughter has become a stranger
Because society has chosen to victimize me in my own peril
I want to be a child again
But you can’t give me that back
Can you?

I long for the feeling of excitement and hope
No longer do I look forward to the future untold
For the past has taught me a lesson
Would I be what I’ve always dreamed to be?
Well let’s see
On the inside I wither away
One by one
Flake by flake
When I recollect how piece by piece you tore my clothes
How every resistance was rewarded with a blow
Each leaving a void in me
Voids that can never be filled
Heavily breathing and sweaty skin
No attention to my pleads
You forced your way through me
And robbed me of womanhood
Stole my innocence
Opened my eyes to a world I’d rather remain a stranger to
I need to be free again
I need to be able to love again
And not fear it
I need to walk the streets with my head high
And shoulders square
I need to rise above the guilt stricken stares
And stillborn rumors
I need to be the woman that girl living my childhood will be proud of
No longer would I hide away in shame and self-neglect
Worried if society would believe my story
I need to look in the mirror and be proud of what I am;
The eagle with the broken wing

Maybe I will heal
Maybe I won’t
Maybe I’ll be able to pick up these broken pieces

Make art out of it

Maybe I’ll be able to fly again and soar with the sun
Maybe I’ll be able to make new memories without a heart churn
Memories that’ll genuinely cause me to smile when they cross this weary mind of mine
But first I need to heal
Ohh if only I could bend time to its knee
And make this pain deceased

Sometimes the memories still roll down my cheeks

But hey even sad birds still sing.

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