I am scared
They don’t know what you are
They see you as a thin air
They see you as a wasted rivulet
They don’t know you name
They call you what they want
They don’t know how many lips have suckled,
Yet, you refuted bowing to perilous bites
You are silent
But your words break the mountains
You are too cold
You melt mountainous avalanche
You are like abyss
Yet, you consume none,
Even when angered
You are old
Yet most valuably sold
And its creed upheld
You have suffered
Haughtily from slaves
Bemoaned by masters
You are enslaved in your regency
I am scared
No one can heal these scares
Even the medic-stars
They make you rather bleed
Poem By: Jk Anyanwu
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