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Poem

The creepy crawly things within, 
the corridors of our mind.
That invades the mind, keeps us up at night.
The conscious fight,Is but a waste of time 
the needless struggle to paint our smile
For the judgement of the colour within a mile 
Is the obviouse reality that bathe in the thoughts' of man
I but a result of natures doing, 
the content of stigma
When every day i leave like in a comma
They say am free on paper 
Thier eyes that chain me later
No one sees my pain.
It lies within my name
Then i bore thier stains
But life still had it constrains
Differences stuffed in a bucket of race
When you look at me what do you see?
The lies told by your fathers past or the present drawned in pity of my ancestors task
To proove we all are equal; but how ?

Was i born in chains by the character of my person
Or the construct of the society and bad lessons
No history of man in ink
Not by my doing, i think
When i pray for days with cake
That constant struggle that keeps me awake
Will jingle like a bell in wait
For those tides that makes the boats to sale
Is but a true thought they wouldnt face.
                    
                  By Lekene Paul

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