The Days, the days of the past.
Days of sadness and anger.
Days of loneliness and powerless.
Days of full of yells.
The Days, Days of the tears.
Tears of suffering and pains.
Tears of no mercy.
Tears of no regrets.
The Days, the days of the dark.
Dark of no bright rays.
Dark of no recognition in the society.
Dark of the dead.
The Days, the days of Poverty.
Poverty of shelter, food and health.
Poverty of no chance to exploit career.
Poverty of forced life.
The Days, the days I was called names.
Names I did not deserve.
Names of abuses and references.
Names that made me so low.
The Days , the days of the voices.
Voices of no Love.
Voices of fear.
Voices that ever hurt.
The Days, the days of sleepless nights.
Nights of flashbacks.
Nights of full of vivid dreams.
Nights that I never wished.
The Days, the days I lost everything.
Lost my friends and the loved ones.
Lost my value in the family.
Lost my way to success.
The Days, the days I was on my knees.
Knees that made me see my future.
Knees of truth and patience.
Knees that made them to hate me.
The Days, the days I knew life.
I knew I had my talent.
I knew I had to rise up.
I knew the right step ahead.
The Days, the days of stability.
Stability that I have been waiting for.
Stability that they are not happy of.
Stability that I am proud of.
bosco
1 comment:
Nice work Bosco! I love how this poem goes from despair to hope :)missmugethi.wordpress.com
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