The world has issues. A lot of issues. Indeed, our generation is becoming or has become anticlockwise.
For we tend to encourage bad acts and discourage goodness.
Out of this, a poem of grief craftically presented; addresses some of these issues.
Enjoy the poem below:
I may not be a saint
But that shouldn’t make me admire the ugly paint
I may not be a teacher
But that shouldn’t make me compromise false preachers
I may not be a healer
But that shouldn’t make me inflict on others pain
I woke up with grief not for the loss of life or wealth
I woke up with heartaches not from a broken heart but the pain of a distorted future
I woke up with tears not from the beatings of enemies but that of hailing the villain and chastising our heroes
I feel hungry not from an empty stomach
But at the starvation the needy goes through while money are wasted on streets
I feel cold not because I have no clothes
But at the sight of sisters sleeping outside on the streets
I feel fear not because am at the mercy of an enemy
But at how we hail monstrosity and applaud barbarism
I feel pain not because I have been victimized
But at the disregard for justice because we aren’t the victim
I am dumb not because I don’t know how to read
But because it’s precious to waste money on the street than send me to school
I am a villain not because I was born so
But the structures meant to guide me have become dormant
I am celebrated not because I alleviate pain
But because I live a flashy life regardless of what or who it may cause
I live in shame not because I walk naked
But because hard work is no longer celebrated
I live with scars not that of war
But that of mockery because I choose to be decent
I live stranded not because am on a weary desert
But because of hazy dark atmosphere that makes it hard for me to find my way
I live with all these but I still carry hope
For beneath the mud is where we find precious diamonds.
Poem by Hamza Hajj Ayyub. Please don’t forget to comment your opinion.
You can also listen to the poem on the link below;