Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 25, 2015

BROKEN~by Michael Ifeanyi Akuchie




Lend me a sackcloth and some ashes,
for i am encompassed with pure misery,
watch me as i strut out in the public,
with a wounded pride,
like a looking glass river,
you can see my heart,
squirming for survival,
you can see my heart,
my favourite wine has been drunk,
here i stand,
mopping the remains;dregs,
like the fig tree
I seem to have a curse seared on my skin,
my branches have become bare,
the bark is taken out,
revealing rotten,worn-out flesh,
like a ruptured cyst,
my insides are gazing at me,
like a water fall,
my tears are gushing with a mad rush,
i beg my inner being,
to put me out of my misery,
so that i can relish the feeling,
of aloness,
brush past these thickets of pain,
endear to see
The sprawled remains,
of a broken spirit,
you heart will retch,
at the ghoulsome sight,
of an age-long love,
passer’s by give their wholehearted perception,
they say i am the lunatic fringe,
that i am barely living,
i am merely a puppet,
modelled and strung around,
by the puppet master.


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