By Ariyo Ahmad

My pen whispers to my mind

To make a scratch on the seed.

Thrown at the balcony of faceless.

It landed safely on that filth.

Insignificant, it murmurs to herself.

Bird of the same feathers, I am.

When I was in the shell of my mother.

I was pampered and cherished.

She suddenly got tired of my existence, and deserted me.

To survive becomes survival of the fittest

I had no ground, nor dream of way forward.

I crawled at the expense of my weakness.

Hunger becomes pressing, buoyantly overpowering.

The land whispers to her, survive with all means.

Or die at the threshold of surviving.

I became attached to dirty and rubbish.

Many devalue me, pressing me low.

And cried all day of how to survive.

In the battlefield, the sun fought me so hard.

I lost count on the times rain beat me up.

The world tries to make my existence Faceless.

I became dried of survival.

Lost all my pride in the process.

Turned pale of a good life.

Suddenly, I cracked out of conscious.

And felt the breeze of good life.

I became friend with the sun 

And the rain became my strength.

Ariyo Ahmad is an up and coming Nigerian poet and art lover who chose poetry as a great medium to express his feelings about an aspect of the Other in order to save the world and make changes in humans at large. He has had his work published or forthcoming in tealit magazine and madmuselit magazine, among others.

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