by Rita Richard
I’ll tell my story
One day I will tell my story
Of the Godly men who were ungodly with me
Of the men I loved but never loved back
I will tell of the man who laced my drink
Of men whose hearts I broke
And of those who broke my heart
One day I will tell of homes I almost broke
Of men of God I almost uncloaked
I will tell of jealous girlfriends I fought off
Of insults I endured
And of heartbreaks I suffered.
One day I will tell of male bosses who almost felled me
Of female bosses who looked down on me
I will tell of colleagues who harassed me
And of the friends who stabbed my back.
One day I will tell of the shame I had to live with
Of the fear that I wasn’t good enough
Of a betrayal so divine.
One day I will tell of the people who held my hands
Of those who had my back
Of those who believed in me
And of those who made me see my worth.
One day I will tell my story
Of friends so loyal
Of family so dedicated
Of daughters so beautiful.
When my knees are strong enough
I will tell my story.
Wonders of existence
She always wonders what life would be
If no misfortune had visited her
Maybe she wouldn’t be so sad
Maybe she wouldn’t trust easily
Maybe it wouldn’t be a life of no faith
Maybe it wouldn’t be a life of no loyalty
Maybe she wouldn’t have to cast a wide net
Only to catch young and bony fishes
She wouldn’t mine for love in the lust forest
Maybe she wouldn’t try to fit
Or try to prove she’s no misfit
Maybe she wouldn’t have to prove her worth
Maybe she would have no reason to exist.
No strength
When the safe space exists no more
When the skin is no longer thick
When the rope can hold no more
Words start getting into your head
Hate starts seeping through your soul
And the rope starts breaking
Bit by bit, your soul cracks
You wonder how to hold anymore
For you’re no longer strong to live.
It feels tired
At times it feels tired.
Tired pretending to be strong
Yet only a threadbare string holds you to sanity.
Tired of smiling and laughing
Yet you can’t remember your last happy day
Nor know what makes you happy.
Tired of being a hero
Yet you’re a damsel in distress.
Tired of acting settled and all-knowing
Yet your next meal is miles in the unknown.
Tired of conversations about the weather.
Tired of acting your story in society’s formula.
All you want is to get high in the middle of the road
Or fly off a building like a bird off a tree.
All you want is to sleep and never wake up.
What is life if not an ironic dance?
Battles of the living
The battles are hard
The battles are draining
Just a few believe you’ll win
But you believe in self-worth
You know your strength
You trust your power
You choose to fight on
You ask not for directions
For no one has been on this path
And none has been to your destination.
Amid engulfing exhaustion
Amid excruciating thirst
Amid consuming hunger
You win.
You want to rub your victory in their faces
But you’re greater than revenge
You’re better than holding grudges
You’re better than showing off.
You decide to let life be
You take comfort in your belief
For their guilt will soon eat them up
And jealousy will smoulder them all.
Life happens
In the cover of blinding dusk
He takes a stroll
His arms folded behind his back
Shoulders stooped
His head hanging low
A silhouette of his frail self
That’s all his long shadow reveals
What is left of him?
A shell of his former self
A man scorned by life
You wonder what’s on his mind
Maybe life just happens!
I should also try
Maybe I should also try
And take selfie videos
Say nothing but just make faces
With my lips brightly coloured
Smile, pout, grin and stick my tongue out
Then upload it on all media
For the whole world should see
My great acting and directing skills.
Bonds of life
That which is beyond comprehension
And beyond any relation
That which is inexplicable
And beyond the sands of time
That which is greater than worries
It is love
It is friendship
It is brotherhood
It is sisterhood
It is love
It is for life.
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