A Risen Enigma

Among the wounded and underrated entities, Lies an enigma, Handsome, softhearted but torn, This is wrecking havoc in my soul. The Nigerian society made me, But I forged my fists and spine with a steel, To withstand and defend against a coup de grâce, And also conquer religion and politics. They are watching but can't feel my pain, And the bleeding on my wounded sensibilities, Because I smell so good in a dirty water, Flowing to the next chapter of my life. Cloaked by insecurities, fears, and intimidation, All I'm doing is to make a living out of the tawdry life the society gave me, Today, I love the way you sit there, And barely notice me at all when I rise.