I was bred in a home where embers of fiasco
burns every minute and,
thick blanket of smoke pervades and hover around our abode,
Leaving our smile to drop into the well of soberness .
Yes, I’m a man
Erected to be rigid and stable when the tempest comes
Ruben , built in the resplendent armor of my father ,
Breaking the soil to eat its fruit while my sudor irrigates the field.
Yes, I’m a man,
The first pillar my mother built before she left,
To stand after father must have gone to feast with his father and hold the home in order
This ember never stop burning;
Or step-mom hitting anything on my head
While my heels kiss the ground,
As I sway to the symphony of pain when her kids gnaw and make mockeries.
But the Nightingale tells me to be at peace and watch the my pain glide away gently,
And make a way for the sun to sail.
My mirror glitters on the surface but underneath it is broken.
While I keep every piffling and record every memory in my palms
And watch my ember of pain burn and get cooled,
Vanquish and vanish into the thin air.
Abiodun Ekundayo is an avid writer, an undergraduate of English, and a lover of poetry. Ekundayo believes in the narrative power of poetry to tell painful stories in the most succinct and mind-grappling way as possible.
Photo Credit: 123rf.com